Message in a Bottle
by llnbooks
Summary: Sequel to "Personal Demon" and "Sweet Child of Mine". A prophecy leads an ancient cult to believe one of the Ghostbusters is destined to release a Toltec warrior's ghost from purgatory and unleash the apocalypse. Meanwhile, Holtzmann tries to reconnect with her birth mother. AU. Book#3 of 4.
1. Prologue

_Sequel to "Personal Demon" and "Sweet Child of Mine", prequel to "One Day at Christmas" (sorry for writing out of sequence, I write whichever story is speaking to me at the time)._

 _Rated PG-13 for adult themes, language, and GB-style action. I don't own the characters, Ghost Corps and a bunch of other people do. I wish I did, the sequel would already be in the works._

 _This story is in-progress. I will post new chapters (or hopefully the remainder of the story) soon._

 **GHOSTBUSTERS**

" **Message in a Bottle"**

 _by llnbooks_

 _Prologue_

The world would not end in fire.

The beginning, she knew, would start as a whisper in the heavens as space and time began to stretch and tear like a rip in fabric. It would not be obvious at first. The rip would reveal a nearly identical sky, maybe a star or two out of place or missing.

However, the truth would soon reveal itself as the rip grew, expanding until it encompassed the heavens as far as the humans on this Earth could see. It would appear to touch the ground, and by then the fear would begin. They would not comprehend what was happening…the fate that awaited them…but they would know something beyond their ken was about to reveal itself.

Some would panic and flee, as if distance could protect them.

Some would stand, paralyzed by their terror or their fascination, watching as their fate unfurled.

Only a very few would fight. This had been foreseen. They would fight their fate, and they would fail.

What revealed itself would not be fire nor brimstone. Death would not rain down from the heavens nor boil forth from the earth. From the perspective of the humans, through the chasm they would see a parallel earth-the differences might be miniscule as a butterfly fluttering along an alternate path, or as grave as an earth that had destroyed itself in nuclear war. They would see an identical rip forming in that parallel earth, revealing still another Earth.

The chasm would expand beyond earth, beyond its solar system, infinity upon infinity manifesting. This would happen in minutes. Space and time would stretch to their breaking point….

…and then, one by one, the infinities would be canceled out. One by one, the alternate earths-the parallel dimensions-would vanish along with everything within that reality, that universe, until finally, only the one perfect Earth remained.

Raina Chai hoped this earth would be one of those that simply winked out of existence. She had no desire to see the "perfect earth". There were surely other Rainas in the parallel universes, and perhaps some of them wished to survive, but she considered that a remote possibility. More likely, they were like her: Weary of sleep plagued by these visions of the coming death. Weary of waking hours of his voice, an incessant dialogue in her ears.

Weary and longing for the kiss of oblivion.

Until that day, he commanded and she obeyed.

"Dr. Chaix?"

Another irritating voice beckoned, this one quite human but no less insistent that the monologue echoing in her head. Images of heavens ripped into nonexistence faded, allowing her attention to return to her immediate surroundings.

Stone warriors towered from floor to the glass skylights. Display cases were full of primitive spears and blades and broken bits of pottery. Picture frames chronicled the various dig sites that Raina Chaix had personally visited, one-by-one over a span of time that nobody present in the room that afternoon would believe if she told them. The Temple of the Warriors, the mounds, Teotihuacan, Chichen Itza.

Then, there were other sites that did not exist on any map because only He could reveal their locations. He had warned Raina to keep them secret.

Raina caught her own face reflected in the glass display case-a face perpetually frozen at age thirty-two. Dark hair spilling over skin pale as snow. Ancient, haunted blue eyes.

A second face appeared beside hers in the glass, this one a bespectacled young man in an impeccably tailored gray-color suit and red tie. He was the interpreter that the hotel had hired for her, Raina remembered. He arched an eyebrow at her. "Dr. Chaix? They're waiting for you."

She mustered her smile before she turned from the artifacts to acknowledge him. _What was this fool's name again?_ "Skip, was it?" Raina formed her words carefully, still trying to learn English.

He beckoned to the curtain that sectioned off this area from the Grand Atrium, where the crowd awaited. "This way, ma'am."

Skip stuck his head through the curtain long enough to give thumbs up to the man at the podium on the other side. The man addressed the assembly of guests, high rollers, and journalists from newspaper, television, and social media. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Hidalgo Casino is proud to present the woman whose tireless dedication made it possible to bring these wonderful _Lost Treasures of the Toltec Empire_ here to Atlantic City today: Dr. Raina Chaix."

The thunderous applause was unsettling. It reminded her of the thunder of time ripping apart in her vision-plagued sleep. Her momentary faltering went unnoticed by the crowd as Raina stepped to the microphone, where Skip waited. The hotel's billionaire owner stood just a few steps behind the podium, wanting to share in the glory of this moment (as though he were not simply another piece to be manipulated for the greater vision of her master). Raina would have to suffer the indignity of the oaf's company for now.

"I wish to thank Mr. Kurt Vaughn…" Raina nodded in acknowledgement of the hotel's owner. "…our generous benefactor. He has made it possible to find the ancient temple of Voga Ra'El and prove that this great warrior was no myth but was, in fact, the most powerful warrior among the Toltecs. It is my honor to present to you now the treasures of the Temple of Voga Ra'El."

On cue, the curtain was drawn back to permit the guests to gaze upon the new Totlec exhibit. Mr. Vaughn had followed all Raina's instructions on how to arrange the stone warriors and how to display the weapons and pottery from the dig sites he had funded. He had commissioned contractors and artists to take Raina's descriptions of the ancient temple in order to make a reasonable reproduction here within this wretched tower of capitalism and greed. At the center was the stone sculpture of Voga Ra'El himself, towering four stories tall, with a dome of glass skylights above that would allow the sun to touch the monument for the first time in hundreds of years.

When the crash of applause and the excited chatter of the guests subsided, Raina continued. "Voga Ra'el rose from humble beginnings, as many great leaders do. He was born crippled, unable to fight, to hunt, to help his family farm. He was left to craft pottery in order to survive. In despair, in desperation to be one of the great warriors of the Totlecs, he begged the gods for healing, to make him the mightiest among his people. Finally, one night, the gods answered his prayers."

A spotlight illuminated one glass display case and the most valuable object within the collection: A tubular piece of blue crystal.

The guests obliged with 'oohs' and 'ahhs' because the lighting cue told them to, Raina scoffed. If they truly understood what they were seeing, they would be shrinking away in terror.

"The Eye of Tezcatlipoca. The patron god of warriors appeared in a ball of metal and fire and left behind this stone monolith. When Voga Ra'El laid his hands upon the stone, it healed him of his disability, infused him with superhuman healing power and strength. He did indeed rise to become the mightiest of the Toltecs. He demanded that his people worship him for his power. He demanded sacrifices in his honor. He fancied himself the equal of Tezcatlipoca and the other Toltec gods until they finally turned against him." Raina walked along the reproductions of the murals that depicted Voga Ra'El's downfall. "The gods gifted his most hated foe, the warrior Xochitl, with the vision of how to use the Eye of Tezcatlipoca to create a hole in the sky itself that swallowed Voga Ra'El alive in an eternal, celestial tomb."

Skip obediently translated her words, but he lacked the capacity to convey the true weight of this occasion. From his simple perspective, to the thinking of everyone here, this was another chance to gawk over the relics of a more 'primitive' era. _They were unfit to gaze upon the artifacts from his kingdom_ , Raina scowled. They would smile at the quaintness of the bygone times. They would shake their heads in wonder at the rudimentary obsidian weapons of those times. They would cringe at reproductions of the murals depicting Voga Ra'El's brutal battles and the human sacrifices demanded by Tezcatlipoca.

What they wouldn't see, what they could not comprehend, was the true power of Voga Ra'El, which was not contained in stone and ceramic artifacts. They would not understand that Raina's description of her master as "the most powerful warrior among the Toltecs" was not intended as flattery to him-it was a warning to all of them.

They would understand all this when it was far too late.

Raina had come to a stop beside the glass case that contained the tubular crystal. She glanced to the simpletons who hung on her every word. "The most fantastic part of this tale, honored guests, is that every word is true."

With that, she raised her fist and punched the glass, shattering the 'unbreakable' security case with a single blow. When she seized the crystal Eye of Tezcatlipoca, it began to glow in her hands.

Ignoring the gasps of the audience and Vaughn's indignant shouts for his worthless security guards, Raina aimed the crystal at the rows of stone warriors. "I am Raina Chaix-Messenger of Voga Ra'El. Wake," she commanded in their ancient dialect.

Vaughn stormed across the room, grabbing her by the arm. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He froze as ghost warriors began to emerge from each of the stone statues. Specters in the form of feathered serpents flew from the murals to fly over the now-screaming audience.

Once such serpent intercepted Vaughn, tearing him away from Raina and carrying him upwards. The impact of his body with the skylights above send glass raining down on his fleeing guests. Vaughn himself vanished with the ghost snake into the night sky, his screams eventually fading.

Security guards who were stupid enough to shoot at the ghost warriors and flying serpents were tossed out windows, slammed into walls, or carried away into the night sky like their employer. One cornered Raina, training his gun on her and ordering her: "Make this stop!"

With a wave of her hand, Raina caused a spear to fly from its display case and impale the man. She felt no remorse. He was fortunate to be gifted with a swift death. What was still to come would be far worse for the living.

Tucking the Eye of Tezcatlipoca into her coat, Raina jumped to the top of the four-story statue of her master and then through the broken skylights to the roof of the casino, leaving Voga Ra'El's army to chase away anyone who might considered pursuing her. From her vantage point, she watched the chaos below, waiting. Minutes ticked by as Raina waited.

Nothing. The voice that was normally a non-stop monologue in her brain was silent for once. _She was awaiting Voga Ra'El's next instructions. Why was he silent now_?!

She did not track how many minutes ticked by before the thump of rotor blades began to drown out the screams of the people in the casino as they fled out of the building's doors and onto the sidewalks below. Several helicopters were swiftly approaching. Most of them were television news copters. Raina cared nothing for them.

One was a black military craft marked "Department of Homeland Security". At its arrival, the voice in Raina's head spoke a single word: _Behold._

She watched.

The copter landed on the nearby beach, conveniently void of tourists and beachcombers as people distanced themselves from the spectral attack at the Hidalgo Casino. The side door of the airship slid open; three women in taupe colored jumpsuits emerged, wearing weapons on their backs unlike anything Raina had ever seen. A fourth woman climbed out the cockpit door.

Their uniforms were emblazoned with the logo of a ghost with a red line drawn through it. Raina puzzled at the symbol and the strangers. They were not military, she could tell, but who, then, were they? _What was Voga Ra'El's interest in these odd women?_

Raina's enhanced senses could easily hear their conversation, even from atop the roof. The woman with hair the color of fire addressed the blonde woman who had been in the cockpit. "It's a matter of physics. I told you that you can't fly helicopters upside down."

The blonde woman smirked at her. "I think I just proved that they can."

Erin rolled her eyes as she shrugged into her proton pack. "Fine. You _shouldn't_ fly helicopters upside down. Is that better?"

Patty wondered why Erin was so surprised. She didn't need to be a science whiz like her friends to calculate that if you let Holtzmann into the cockpit of a helicopter, bad and mind-numbingly terrifying things were going to happen. "Holtz, just tell me you knew we were over the harbor…or do we owe Jesus a prayer of thanks that Agent Rorke landed in the water and didn't go 'splat' on the New Jersey turnpike?"

"Where did you learn to fly, anyway?" Erin pressed.

Holtzmann was almost insulted. "I built a portable nuclear accelerator out of dumpster scraps. I can figure out how a helicopter works."

Gathering her own gear from the chopper, Abby provided the answer, if only so that they could drop the subject of their most recent Holtzmann-generated near-death experience and start concentrating on the job at hand. "Holtz interned two years at Hudson Aerospace after college. She could fly the space shuttle if she had to."

She passed the silver duffel bag to Holtzmann, who was still grinning (mostly due to the endorphins from her aerial stunt). "That almost happened once when I was consulting at N.A.S.A.. Funny story. I was looking for the ladies' room, and I got sooo lost—"

Patty interrupted, "Why would a paranormal physicist need to know how to fly a space shuttle?"

Holtzmann was suddenly dead serious. "Two words: Space ghosts."

"That is not a real thing."

"Oh, they're real..."

Erin was officially sorry that she'd brought up the subject. "And on that note…let's go."

Predictably, the scene of the spectral disturbance was easy enough to spot-they only had to follow the lines of screaming tourists fleeing the scene and look for the familiar floating blobs of glowing green dotting the night sky. Ordinarily, the small Hidalgo Casino was lost among the taller, fancier, and more upscale venues of Atlantic City. However, at that moment, with specters of warriors and flying serpents shattering windows and chasing civilians and the illumination of green streaks stretching skyward, the tiny casino was the most visible spot in the city.

Erin read the giant banner hanging down the side of the Hidalgo's hotel tower " _Lost Treasures of the Toltec Empire_. Well, on a brighter note, we haven't seen a Toltec ghost before."

They sobered as they approached the building. Through the glass lobby doors, they could see one poor guard who had been impaled by a spear. There was another body, a man in an expensive-looking business suit-lying in the topiaries near the main entrance. In the short time since they'd defeated Rowan North, the few specters that the Ghostbusters had battled were relatively harmless, content to haunt, not harm. The fatalities meant this was a nastier than usual paranormal customer and time was of the essence if they were to prevent more loss of life.

Weapons drawn, they jumped into the fight.

From her place on the roof, Raina Chaix watched the new arrivals. Their weapons were terrifying. One by one, Voga Ra'El's spectral army began to vanish into the energy beams wielded by these women. Raina had believed nothing could harm, much less kill, soldiers who were already dead.

She ducked as the dark-haired Ghostbuster with the glasses took a wild shot at one of the serpent ghosts as it scaled the building, heading for the roof. The apparition screamed and dissolved before Raina's eyes as she reached for it helplessly, crying: "No!"

The women had small grenades as well. As Raina watched, they dispatched a half-dozen more ghosts with only two of the explosives. Miraculously, the panicked humans running from the casino were unharmed by the blasts that had obliterated the specters.

She hung her head in despair. _What was Voga Ra'El's purpose in this-allowing his own army to be massacred while Raina watched, incapable of preventing it? If they'd wasted these years to be led to the slaughter now, she should pitch herself to the pavement below and end her suffering._

 _But, still his voice in her mind whispered: "Wait."_

Slowly, the Ghostbusters beat back the tidal wave of vapors and apparitions, making their way into the demolished lobby of the casino, which was the central point of the invasion. Most of the ghosts were focused on pursuing the few remaining humans out of the building. Some were distracted as the psycho-kinetic energy set off the lights and whistles of the slot machines and floated to investigate the machines and the tiny coins spilling from the devices to the floor. A few screeched and scattered as the Ghostbusters entered the room.

Patty glanced around at the temple setting, stone monoliths, and the artifacts. "Someone has been watching way too many _Indiana Jones_ movies."

Erin would have found it interesting if the artifacts weren't somehow generating homicidal spirits. "Holtz-this seems like a good time to test the new trap."

Holtzmann was happy to oblige. "Alright, which one do you want: Ugly warrior ghost or ugly snake ghost?"

At the center of the room was a towering statue of what the Ghostbusters assumed was some ancient Toltec warrior. A serpent ghost-twice as big as the ones that they'd obliterated outside-was coiled around the man's statue. When the women entered the lobby, weapons at the ready, the serpent hissed, baring pointed teeth at them, and began to disentangle itself from the statue to advance upon them.

Erin gestured towards it with her neutrino wand. "That one seems to be volunteering."

Holtzmann pulled the trap from its hook on her proton pack. She was rather stoked about the new toy. It wasn't physically that different from the regular traps. However, if it functioned correctly (and she took it as a personal failure if her machines didn't perform to perfection), the trap would be able to reopen without freeing the ghost inside. The ability to open a trap and communicate with an imprisoned ghost could come in handy, just in case they need to question a ghost about something (for example, like why a Toltec warrior specter had just pitched a bus into the lobby of Trump's casino down the street. _He must not like how the Republican primaries turned out_ , Holtzmann shrugged.)

Catching the serpent ghost as it propelled itself at them was pathetically simple. She whistled, it aimed for her, and Abby and Patty snared it in a crossfire of neutrinos. Holtzmann hit the foot trigger and _voila_! Ghost in a box.

"That never gets old," Holtzmann grinned. She thumbed open a side panel of her proton pack, removing a cable. She attached it's plug to a port on the trap. "Ready?"

On the roof, watching through the broken skylight, Raina watched, paralyzed with fear and fascination.

Erin nodded, tensely aiming her weapon at the trap in case Holtzmann's new toy didn't work. It went against her instincts to open a trap except to empty it into the containment unit. She tried not to think of what had happened when she'd opened a trap to show off their first specter prisoner to that obnoxious Martin Heiss (who would hopefully wake from his coma someday).

"Go," was all she said.

Holtzmann hit the foot trigger once more, and the trap sprang open. Abby and Patty backed up Erin with their own weapons as a streak of green propelled itself from the device…only to be snared as energy from Holtzmann's proton pack fed through the trap to form a net of energy around the serpent ghost. Snared, the ghost struggled against the hold of the neutrino net, keening its rage.

Abby's finger poised over the trigger of her proton wand, keeping one eye on the test and the other watching in case any more of the Toltec ghost army should manifest to attack. The neutrino net seemed to be holding. "Try communicating with it!" she called to Erin over the crackling noise of the beams.

Erin kept her weapon aimed as she did so: "I'm Dr. Erin Gilbert. Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Unable to free itself of the net, the ghost blew a chunk of ectoplasm in her direction. Erin was expecting it (seemed like she was the favorite target for every slime-spewing ghoul in the Tri-State area) and ducked out of its path. Undaunted, she continued: "Can you tell me your name or the name of the specter, spook, or demigod you all serve?"

The serpent ghost keened something unintelligible at her. It might have been a dialect Erin didn't understand or it could have simply been the cry of the caged beast it was. "Okay, I don't know if the problem is a language barrier or a psychotic ghost barrier, but it looks like the cage is doing its thing at least. Nice work, Holtz."

Holtzmann gave a half-bow, appreciating the appreciation. "It's what I do."

The serpent ghost whirled on the blonde, lunging at Holtzmann with teeth bared, trying to rip out her throat. She didn't so much as flinch as the net held the creature at bay.

Abby fidgeted nervously. "Let's speed it up, ladies. Fido's wanting out of the doghouse and we don't know how long it'll take for that trap to drain the pack's power."

She was right, of course. Erin gave her a nod in answer. To the specter, she said: "On behalf of the State of New Jersey and the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, I am ordering you to cease paranormal activity and return to your dimension of origin. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The serpent strained against the hold of the net, straining to spread its wings. The force of its efforts lifted the trap, the cable nearly tugging Holtzmann off her feet. _There was a design flaw she hadn't anticipated. She'd have to figure out an independent power source for the neutrino net._

Patty fired, adding her proton beam to the net to anchor the ghost. "That's definitely our cue to wrap this up."

"Right," Holtzmann hit the foot pedal one last time. The energy net drew the writhing spirit back into the trap.

Raina watched the blonde woman the others called "Holtz"-she noted the proton packs, the trap, the net of energy, the grenades.

 _This human wielded weapons of the gods…was creator of these weapons._

She thought of the prophecy of Voga Ra'El: _The Architect (that was the closest modern English word for it) would be revealed at the Temple of the Warriors._

Raina had lived for years at the site of the real temple, waiting in vain for the prophesized "Architect". Now, the Temple had been recreated here-in this vile casino in this unholy city.

 _Could it possibly be_ -?

 _The Architect will create a bridge to the Kingdom of the Gods and Voga Ra'El shall be set free,_ the prophecy promimsed.

 _And if that pale, tiny creature had created such weapons, she surely could create a gateway to Voga Ra'El and his prison in the parallel dimension,_ Raina reasoned.

She spied one of the warrior ghosts hidden behind one of the temple pillars. The specter was closing on the four Ghostbusters. It hefted a spear, preparing to impale the blonde Ghostbuster from behind. Raina breathed a command that the ghost heard loud as a shout: " _Stop_."

The ghost paused, looking at Raina in confusion.

The delay allowed Patty to spots the danger to Holtz. "Watch it!" she yelled, drawing a grenade to dispatch the warrior ghost in a 'poof' of ectoplasmic vapor. The spear fell harmlessly to the floor.

"Where was that little booger hiding?" Holtzmann wondered aloud.

"Let's sweep the area, make sure we got them all." Abby drew her PKE meter and began a methodical search of the casino. When she aimed the scanner towards the roof, the warning lights flared. "Looks like we have some activity up on the roof."

 _She'd been discovered._ Raina tucked the Eye of Tezcatlipoca into her cloak as she considered all she'd witnessed. She was stunned. For the first time in a century, she felt a bubble of hope within her soul.

This woman—"Holtz"-might be the One.

The Architect.

Raina's century of torment might finally come to an end.

But she had to know for sure—and clearly Raina would not be able to reach the golden-haired woman while she was armed and surrounded by her comrades.

Raina debated simply having the warrior ghosts take the woman. They'd likely suffer minimal losses before escaping with the Architect. But, if this woman was not the Architect, Raina did not want to reveal Voga Ra'El's plans. And time spent pondering a course of action was costing more of Voga Ra'El's warriors.

She had to find out for sure.

She had to find out more about these Ghostbusters and the one they called Holtz.

Raina stretched forth her arm, beckoning Voga Ra'El's army: " _To me_."

The last specters of Voga Ra'El's army gathered, swarming back into the hotel from outside and emerging from their hiding places in the reconstructed temple. The Ghostbusters watched as a river of green floated overhead to funnel through the broken skylight.

Erin watched the exodus, confused. "Now where are they going?"

"Is that it?" Patty asked. "It took me longer to fight with the seat belt on the chopper."

Abby took a few stray shots at the retreating ghosts, but gave up quickly. It was like smashing one ant to stop the whole swarm. She didn't think the ghosts were running away because they were giving up, which meant they had whatever they'd come to the casino to find.

Three of the ghosts bolted past Holtzmann, snagging the trap from her hands before she could do anything besides give an indignant shout: "What the-? Damn it, that was my prototype!" She took a few shots, but the ghosts played keep away with the trap until they were out of range of her weapon.

Watching the swirling protoplasmic mass, the Ghostbusters finally spotted the hooded figure watching them from above.

Patty gestured to Raina with her proton wand. "Okay, so who's that? That doesn't look like no damn ghost."

Erin ran for the staircase. "We can ask her when we catch her. Hurry! Follow them!"

The Ghostbusters raced through the trashed casino and up the flights of stairs to the roof. Raina turned from them, lifting her arms to the winged serpent ghosts. They picked her up as they sprang aloft and vanished into the night sky.

By the time the Ghostbusters reached the roof, the spectral army was long gone.

Abby holstered her weapon and stowed the PKE meter. "Okay, unless we can sprout wings, we aren't going to catch them. I'd say we definitely showed up too late for this party.""

"This obviously wasn't an invasion. At least not yet. Maybe Atlantic City wasn't exciting enough for them?" Erin joked.

Holtzmann shrugged. "If I were a ghost, I'd invade Las Vegas-catch a show, play a little baccarat, slime the all-you-can-eat buffets, and drop flyers for hookers on the Scientology convention. The usual tourist stuff."

Patty gave her ear a pinch. "My Aunt Trudy is a Scientologist. The signs down there said the artifacts came from the Temple of the Warriors and the tomb of some Toltec dude named Voga Ra'El," she said. The other three women blinked at her. Secretly, Patty was pleased she had noticed something the scientists had missed. "What? I can read and shoot ghosts at the same time. I'm a multi-tasker."

"Voga Ra'El," Erin repeated. "I don't recognize the name. I'll check _Tobin's Spirit Guide,_ FindAGhost dot com, the usual sites."

"They wanted something." Abby turned the puzzle in her mind as they made their way back to the lobby and the Toltec exhibit. She noticed the most prominent glass case of the display was shattered. "Let's find out what was in this case and if anything else is missing from exhibit. Maybe have Agent Hawkins check if the security camera caught anything...like our mystery woman's face."

GBGBGBGBGBGBGB

 _Five weeks later…_

The pile of flowers, gifts, get well cards, and candles had begun to partially block the stairs leading into the apartment building. The makeshift monument had started accumulating the night that the building's resident Ghostbuster had been injured. Twelve days later, the supervisor was fed up with the mess and finally called the firehouse, demanding that the Ghostbusters do something with the pile.

Kevin had been dispatched with a carload of empty boxes to gather up Holtzmann's presents and bring them back to the firehouse. There wasn't much point in leaving the items in her decimated apartment. Without a front door-or walls-the apartment couldn't be secured, and Holtz's neighbors couldn't keep guarding the place indefinitely. Erin and Patty had already combed through the wreckage checking for any of Holtz's belongings that had survived the ghost fight. They'd brought the items back to HQ before looters and souvenir hunters could ransack the apartment.

Holtzmann had wanted to stay at the firehouse while she convalesced from her injuries (if she ever escaped from the doctors, who seemed intent upon keeping her in the hospital). Abby flatly insisted on setting up the second bedroom in her own small apartment for her while Holtz's place underwent repairs. It was the only way to keep an eye on Holtz to make sure she followed the doctor's orders to rest ("I only need four hours of sleep") and took her medicine ("Pills give me brain fog").

Kevin was concentrating on sorting out dried up flowers (Erin wanted to make 'potpourri'. Women had strange hobbies), deflated 'Get Well' balloons, stuffed animals, and other trinkets. He barely paid attention to the people passing by on the sidewalk or coming and going from the building…until he turned to carry a box to the car and nearly collided with a woman who had crept up behind him while he worked.

He still bumped into her, nearly sending them both toppling and almost making her drop the blue crystal object in her hands. Kevin's hurried to catch her elbow before the woman fell. "Sorry, ma'am-didn't see you there."

The woman clutched her package to her chest, relieved she'd kept her grip on it. She frowned at the boy.

Getting a good look at the woman, Kevin instinctively withdrew his hand.

She might have been an attractive woman, he mused, if not for the fact that one look at her made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She was bundled up against the-warm September afternoon?-in a beaten brown overcoat and hood. Black curls spilled from beneath the hood, stark against her pale skin. Her eyes were such pale blue that Kevin wondered if they might actually glow in the dark (not that he'd want to be caught in the dark with this freaky Sheila). The eyes were like ice and sent a piercing bit of cold right into his bones. At least, it made him feel like his blood ran cold.

 _Maybe she was a snowman—or snowwoman_ , he thought. _Except there was no snow and she'd melt in that overcoat._ Kevin dismissed that notion.

She smelled odd, too. Kind of like the room at the National History Museum where they kept the mummies. He'd found that room once when he'd got lost while taking a tour.

Then the woman smiled, and Kevin hoped she never did it again because it was flatly disturbing.

"Pardon," she half-bowed in apology. She spoke slowly and deliberately, as if English was not her native language and she was having to work at finding her words. "Am I too late to leave a gift for the Ghost Buster?" She held out the crystal object to Kevin. "So unfortunate…such a tragedy…such a clever girl to master the secrets of the universe."

Kevin had no idea what the woman was talking about, but he forgot to be creeped out in his eagerness to accept the gift. He loved presents even if they weren't for him. He puzzled over the crystal. It was nearly formless. He would have bought something that had been carved into a recognizable shape like a horse or a bird. Maybe this was new age art?

"Oh…I get it. I've seen these before. It's a salt lamp, right?" he guessed, despite the obvious lack of a power cord or a base for batteries. He just didn't want the scary woman to think he couldn't appreciate art.

Her smile vanished. She cocked her head at him.

"They have a salt lamp at my gym. Supposed to have healing powers. Or something. If you believe that stuff. Which I don't," he babbled in the uncomfortable silence.

"Healing powers…yes," the woman said. "This will heal. You will see the Arch-the Ghost Buster-receives it?"

Kevin shrugged. "Yeah, sure." He chucked the crystal into one of the empty boxes.

The woman made a noise like a hiss, snatching back the figuring and replacing it in the maddening boy's hands. "You will see the Ghost Buster receives it," she repeated.

Kevin sighed. _Fanboys could be so pushy._ "No worries." He winked at the woman. She recoiled as if he'd tried to bite her.

Raina Chaix stared, watching with quiet exasperation as the boy once again placed the crystal into a box (using exaggerated care this time). She had tried to deliver the Eye of Tezcatlipoca to the Architect in person, but her hospital door had been guarded by men with guns hidden beneath their coats. They seemed buffoonish, but that made them no less dangerous.

Therefore, she was dependent upon this equally-buffoonish blonde boy to deliver the crystal to the Architect. He did not understand the supreme importance of what she was asking him to do, and she could not explain it to him.

 _How long Voga Ra'El has waited…waited for the Architect. So many had been tested and failed, but as soon as she'd seen the Ghost Buster called 'Holtzmann' and the miraculous machines she created on the news channels, she had known: This was the Architect. Finally._

 _Voga Ra'El had waited long. He would have to wait a bit longer. There was no choice at the moment._

Resigned, Raina withdrew, leaving Kevin to his work.

TBC…


	2. Crystal Blue Persuasion

_A.N. – Thank you to those who responded positively to the beginning of the story, and thanks for being patient waiting for an update. The next chapters should be coming within the week. For now, I hope you enjoy this. The usual disclaimers apply—some language and adult situations. Also, I still don't own the characters._

1

 _ **Crystal Blue Persuasion**_

Holtzmann had been out of the hospital for exactly thirty hours, and she was already about to lose her ever-loving mind.

She was freaking ecstatic to be off Dr. Menken's leash, of course. Whether at the behest of the Ghostbusters or their Homeland Security overlords, Holtzmann was sure the hospital had subjected her to just about every possible test to reassure her fretting family that Jillian was, indeed, going to recover from the spectral attack and resultant coma and ruptured spleen (plus the reaction to the anesthesia).

 _Did that mean Holtzmann got to return home? Of course not_.

Mainly, because there wasn't a home to return to anymore. Artie had thoroughly demolished her apartment (what the ghost hadn't smashed, the resulting flood had ruined), leaving her effectively homeless until the repairs were finished. Also, there was the fact that Holtzmann was still healing from abdominal surgery and couldn't so much as sneeze without fear of tearing her incision. Menken had ordered her to rest and refused to clear her to go back to work yet (hefting a thirty-pound proton pack was simply out of the question).

Abby had insisted Holtzmann stay in her guest room, where she'd be able to make sure her friend was recovering and following the doctor's orders. She'd been careful not to leave anything in the apartment that Holtzmann could remotely use to build any kind of gizmo or gadget (and since her friend didn't need much material to engineer with, it was a challenge for Abby to "Holtzmann-proof" her apartment).

 _She couldn't guard the building's dumpsters._ The minute she was left alone, Holtzmann planned to scavenge every recycle bin on the block for material and be back at work, she didn't care if her incision opened and all her guts spilled out. She had been kept away from her lab for too long.

It was getting them to leave her alone that was the trick.

"I can stay at the firehouse. Kevin's there. He can help with the heavy lifting." Holtzmann had tried pouting, pleading, and when those failed she'd even tried reasoning with the other Ghostbusters when they came to pick up her up from the hospital that morning.

"Nice try." Abby wasn't falling for that again. The Ghostbusters had needed sleep and made the mistake of thinking Kevin could keep Holtzmann out of trouble while she was in the hospital. When they'd returned seven hours later, Holtzmann had "fixed" the motors on a pair of wheelchairs, challenged their receptionist to a race, and added a broken right pinky finger to her list of injuries.

After that, Holtzmann's mother, and sometimes Agent Hawkins, took over for Kevin when the Ghostbusters had to answer a call.

"Kevin brought the stuff from your apartment...well, whatever Artie didn't trash. Everything except your tools-those are locked up at the firehouse. No working." Erin was in full lecture mode. Holtzmann still had use of her other fingers to make a rude gesture in response. "That's not going to change my mind. Hawkins said the repairs to your place will be done by the time Dr. Menken clears you to go back to work."

"What am I supposed to do with myself for two weeks?"

" _Three_ weeks," Patty corrected her. "Prank call Erin, I know you enjoy that."

Erin huffed, "I _knew_ that was you!"

"Catch some daytime t.v. or binge watch something on Netflix," Abby suggested.

 _Daytime t.v.?_ Holtzmann cringed at the very thought. "You have a gas oven, right?"

Abby gave her a warning stare. "Not funny."

Holtzmann would have made a show of melodramatically throwing herself back on the hospital bed if not for the dizziness and the spectacular stab of pain from her stomach that such a gesture would earn her. "There has to be something work-related I can do. Research or something. _Anything_."

The other three Ghostbusters exchanged glances, silently debating. Holtzmann felt like a kid begging her big sisters to let her go outside to play. Erin nodded, "That might be alright…but strictly computer work. No lifting heavy books or going to the library without help." She set Holtzmann's beloved silver duffel bag beside the engineer. "There are some new clothes in there. Most of yours had too much smoke and water damage."

Holtzmann unzipped the bag, inspecting the new garments. She pursed her lips at the yellow blouse with the tiny bow tie and the dress shoes with the heels. "You picked these, didn't you?" she asked Erin.

"I did. Janine's taking you to lunch; you said you wanted something nice to wear," Erin answered.

 _I should have sent Patty shopping instead_ , Holtzmann mused. _Still, if it got her out of the damn hospital, she'd wear a potato sack._ "I appreciate all this, guys."

Abby stayed behind when Erin and Patty stepped out into the hallway. "You having second thoughts?"

"About the heels? Yes."

"Funny. You know what I mean."

Holtzmann did. She fussed with the tattered silver bag a bit. "What? No. Janine's…nice."

She had spent a little time with her birth mother in the last week, but never completely alone. Janine visited at the hospital, but usually her friend, Ray, was with her or one of the other Ghostbusters was within earshot.

Privately, the Ghostbusters had misgivings about leaving Holtzmann in the hands of a biological mother, especially when she was just being discharged from the hospital, but that wasn't their decision to make. Janine had been nothing but kind, appreciative of that fact that her daughter had agreed to see her at all, but then Dr. Jekyll had been perfectly charming before Mr. Hyde showed up. It might be unjustified, but (having dealt with Holtzmann's other "mothers" Lydia and Sophia), they were worried that Janine would open up a bag of freak as soon as she had her daughter alone.

Holtzmann would have preferred dealing with her psychotic foster mothers. She could do crazy. Going to lunch as just a normal mother/daughter was a completely foreign concept. She'd had to blackmail Dr. Menken just to get permission for the outing when he wanted her resting. Then, she'd had to persuade her friends that she was up for it because they were fully prepared to shadow her for the lunch date. Now that the arrangements were made, Holtzmann nerves were kicking in.

"But-?" Abby prompted. _If Jillian wanted Janine in her life, Abby would be kind to the woman. If she wanted Abby to help her bounce Janine back to Pawtucket, Abby would do that, too._

Holtzmann unpacked the god-awful blouse, pants, and shoes (and heaven help her, why did Erin think olive pants went with a yellow floral shirt?). "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with a mom. Like, when she comes to get me-am I supposed to give her a hug? Shake her hand? Do I give her a high five?"

"Holtz, do not high five your mother."

"No? Fist bump then?" Abby rolled her eyes as she helped Holtzmann hobble over the tiny closet to change out of the pajamas and hospital robe.

Her friend was babbling a litany of questions: "Seriously! If she comes to the apartment, am I supposed to put out snacks? Make coffee? I don't have a coffee pot anymore. Is she going to inspect my kitchen? My bathroom? My medicine cabinet? Isn't that what moms do? Or is it only mother-in-laws that do that? And _why_ do they do that? Are daughters too stupid to hide the Zoloft or the Oxycontin before their mothers come over?"

Abby put a hand on her shoulder. If her friend twitched any harder, she was going to shake her stitches loose. "Holtz! Relax! I have some _Cathy_ cartoon strips I can loan you that will explain all of that. It's not like you never had a good mom…what did you and Mrs. Holtzmann used to do?"

"I remember when I was five, I took the engine out of Mr. Holtzmann's lawn mower and built a go cart. I drove it to the drive-in movies…but I didn't get to watch the movie because the police came."

"I would hope so…but that's not a mother/daughter story," Abby pointed out.

Holtzmann thought for a minute as she struggled into the ugly blouse, her stomach protesting when she lifted her arm a little too high. Her gaze was drawn to the red scar on her abdomen and the smaller scar on her temple. The marks would never completely fade. Holtzmann kind of liked them. Scars were for survivors. Janine, however, had barely hidden a wince when she'd accidently seen the marks.

 _Abby had asked her a question._ Holtzmann tore her gaze from the marks and rummaged through the bag. "She took me to some concerts."

Abby smiled. "See? That's a nice mother/daughter memory."

"It was Brett Michaels. She flashed him. I have a picture in my wallet…"

"No, no, I already have a mental picture now, thanks," Abby declined.

Holtzmann lapsed into another minute of silence while she fussed with her "Screw U" necklace. She finally put it back in the bag, deciding it might not be the message she wanted to send when her mother came to pick her up.

The next bit was spoken so quietly that Abby almost didn't hear it: "What if she doesn't like me, Abby?"

 _What if I don't like her_? _No…I do like Janine_.

 _What if…I let her down_?

 _What if she lets me down_?

Holtzmann really did want to get to know her birth mom. There were questions she'd stored up for thirty years about her parents, her biological family. The bottom line was that she wasn't sure that she wanted another parent. _Biology didn't make a parent. Neither did a piece of paper from the DSS. Parents died. Parents abandoned you. Parents bundled you back to the DSS when you set your bedroom on fire. Janine had already abandoned her once. What if she did it again?_

 _God, she could use a beer. Damn doctors had said no alcohol…and Erin had told her not to order beer. She'd said people having brunch with polite company drank mimosas. Holtz had no idea why mimosas were more 'polite' than beer…_

Holtzmann stifled a groan. Give her machines. She understood the hows and whys of machines. The only family dynamics she understood was how to be part of a dysfunctional family.

Abby wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "I don't think you have to worry about that. Holtz, you are smart, loyal, beautiful, and you have a great big heart. Be yourself. She's your mom, she's going to see that." _Besides which, shouldn't Janine be the one worried about making the good impression? She was the one who gave up her daughter and returned without warning_ , Abby thought.

 _Be myself,_ Holtzmann frowned at the odd woman in the mirror with the hideous bow-tie was she supposed to 'be herself' wearing clothes that aren't hers, eating at restaurants that she didn't pick, and drinking mimosas when she wanted beer? She wasn't sure she owned anything nice enough for the place Janine's taking her even before Artie destroyed most of her belongings. All her clothes had come from the St. Augustus Thrift Store (it was all Holtz can afford and it supported her old children's home).

"Abby?"

"What?"

"There's no way I can get into those pants and shoes without help."

GBGBGBGBGBGB

If her hands shook any harder, Janine was convinced the friction would cause her to spontaneously combust. She hid it by wrapping her fingers around a Styrofoam cup of coffee. The awkward silence that had settled over the sitting room when Erin and Patty returned wasn't helping.

The three of them sat, waiting for Dr. Menken to finish signing the discharge papers and the orderly to bring Jillian down (very specifically in a non-motorized wheelchair). Janine had some interaction with the other her daughter's surrogate family during her two visits that week, but that had always been in Jillian's room. Their shared desire not to do anything to affect her recovery (like, say, interrogate her long-lost biological mother about her intentions toward their friend) had made the Ghostbusters keep things polite.

Now that they were alone for the first time, Patty sat in a chair opposite Janine's, studying the older woman with undisguised suspicion. Erin sat in a chair between the two women, trying to make polite conversation despite her own misgivings about Janine. "So…what are you two doing for lunch?"

Janine knew her only usefulness to Jillian's mistrustful friends was to help them keep the engineer away from the firehouse and her laboratory. The trio would probably find a way to tag along for lunch that day if they weren't using the diversion to catch up on calls. "I was going to try Squares on the Square."

"Oh, I've heard of that place! Supposed to be very trendy." Erin was impressed.

Patty groaned. "Oh Lord, we're going to get a bill for damages…remember what happened last time?"

Erin winced. "She might be right. Holtz doesn't do well in fancy places like that. We tried taking her to this new wave fusion place, but she's distrustful of overly complicated food served in exceedingly tiny portions. Also, she thought an amuse-bouche was a spa treatment."

"That's nicer than what I thought an amuse-bouche was," Patty said. "Besides, I don't blame her for not liking that place. There was some dude trying to make us read a wine list the size of a phone book and they had someone called a 'mixologist', which by the way had nothing to do with music. That was a huge disappointment."

"The mixologist was the bartender. The man with the wine was a sommelier."

"See? Too complicated. At a good restaurant, you should only need to know three words to order booze: 'Red', 'white', and 'beer'." Patty turned to Janine, warning her: "Definitely don't take Holtzy to a place like that unless you've got money to pay for damages when she sets the sommelier's tie on fire."

Janine's eyes widened. She glanced to Erin for confirmation.

Erin did her best to laugh that off, but it came out as a nervous chirp. "She's joking. Holtz wouldn't do that again. She normally only sets things on fire to show affection or distract you from your problems if you're upset. Kind of a 'take your mind off your worries by replacing them with a whole different worry' theory. Surprisingly effective."

Janine blinked at her, not at all reassured.

"She really does mean well," Erin added.

"You've been friends a long time?" Janine wanted to know.

Erin shifted nervously in her chair. "A few months, but you know, once you stop the Apocalypse with someone, you develop a bond."

 _Yes, as a matter of fact, Janine knew that very well._ However, since her non-disclosure orders from Homeland Security meant she couldn't tell her daughter or her friends about the original Ghostbusters, all Janine could do was smile politely and answer: "I'm sure you do."

Patty had to interject: "No, Erin's right. We haven't known her a long time, but she's like our best friend or a kid sister. I mean, she's really loyal-and smart. In a mad scientist way."

Janine pondered that. "Loyal and smart. Oh good, my daughter is a Golden Retriever..."

Erin leaned her head on her hands. "Yeah, we're not helping."

"You are. You're fine. I'm glad she has friends like you," Janine meant it. "I'm the one who messed up with Jillian."

Patty's expression softened into something closer to compassionate. The woman was admitting she screwed up. That earned Janine a few points in her book. "Ah, don't feed bad, Janine. Holtz is just a little tricky to get to know, but she's a good person. It's hard to pin down Holtz. I mean—she can build a nuclear reactor out of dumpster scraps, she has this weird affection for 80s music, and she shows affection by lighting things on fire like I said. But you know what? That's why we love her."

"Great. That helps. I'll just take her dumpster diving, stop at an 80's dance club, and cap off the afternoon with a trip to an illegal fireworks factory..."

"I know you're joking, but I think Holtz would really enjoy that," Patty said.

"I can't make up for thirty years." Janine hadn't meant to say it aloud. She blushed a bit, looking at her still trembling hands. She decided to set the cup on the nearest table before the twitched caused her to spill it on herself.

"You know…one of the best things about Holtz is that she doesn't hold grudges. I mean, Abby dropped her out a third story window once, and Holtz never said boo about it." Patty meant it to be reassuring, but, naturally, Holtzmann's mom didn't take that bit of history too well.

"WHAT?!" Janine's exclamation and her leaping out of her chair made the nurse at the reception area glance sharply in their direction. She waved apologetically back at him

Erin caught the woman's arm and gently urged her to sit. "Abby was possessed by a malevolent ghost at the time. Important footnote to that story."

Patty moved to the chair next to Janine's, trying again. "Okay, Janine, there are three things you need to know about your daughter. One: That fire thing is true, so keep a good quality fire extinguisher in your house and in your car at all times. Two: She's scared of fire hydrants. We don't know why and we're afraid to ask. So, plan your route accordingly. Three-and I just can't stress this enough: Do not give her any caffeine."

Erin nodded. "She's right. That's an important one."

Patty explained, "It's like that _Gremlins_ movie-you know, when the old wise dude tells the smart-ass kid not to get the gremlin wet or feed it after midnight, and the kid does it anyway, and that cute furry critter turns into a little green monster and runs around killing half the town."

Janine had no idea how to respond to the image of her daughter running amok like a 'little green monster'. Erin saw her eyes widen and waved for Patty to stop. "We're definitely scaring Janine. We're making Holtz sound crazy."

"No, don't worry about it. Jillian's father once tried to prove he could survive shoving an ice pick through his skull. Another time, he froze all his toes and tried to amputate them so they could be replaced with bionic toes. And another time he strapped himself to a bunch of weather balloons and tried to jump off the Chrysler Building. He wanted to compare the effects of high altitude hypoxia versus the bends. Trust me, in our family, the bar for 'crazy' is set higher than occasional fires, explosions, and random phobias."

She looked up to see both women gaping at her. "And you still slept with his crazy ass after all that?" Patty blurted.

Erin kicked her ankle, glaring.

"Sorry, I meant to say…so, Holtzy's dad was a scientist, too?"

The awkward silence returned. Patty got up to pace the tiny waiting room. Erin exchanged a shrug with her friend before glancing back at Janine, who had resumed staring at her hands.

"We really are trying to help," Erin promised.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

"We converted the whole firehouse. You should come see it sometime. There was some kind of industrial accident there back in the 80s so the owners had to wait for the Health Department to clear it for sale. Can you believe it sat empty for thirty years?"

Jillian was reluctant to talk about herself, so Janine had tried asking about her work. It was a trick she had learned while getting to know Egon-all you had to do was ask a science question and sit back.

"No, thirty years sounds about right," Janine said. The last time she was here, she and Egon were running for their lives from the explosion of the containment unit. Egon estimated afterwards that the grounds would be contaminated for roughly 30 years. The "owners" were Peter and Ray. Janine wouldn't be surprised to find out the realtor who suggested the place to the Ghostbusters was Peter's sister-in-law. She would have kicked Venkman's ass for meddling with her daughter again if he weren't already a pathetic mess recovering from his plunge out the Ghostbusters' window.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a restaurant in Times Square. Holtzmann stared at the garish pink and yellow trim. The paint job was bright enough to blind someone in the direct sunlight. "Is this the place?"

The initial thrill of being out of the hospital, out in the sunshine and breathing real air (or as close as one could get in the big city), lasted until Hawkins dropped them off at a 'New Wave Dining Experience' that was bizarre even by Holtzmann's standards.

'Squares on the Square' looked innocuous from the outside, but the inside was more like an abstract art show than a restaurant. As soon as the heels Erin gave her became stuck the instant they hit the foam floor, nearly causing Holtzmann to stumble. Janine caught her arm, helping her walk. She had to work to keep the shoes from sinking into the flooring. Instead of an alcohol bar, there was a crowded oxygen bar. There were a few private dining tables, but most of the seating was centered around large, communal dining tables.

At least, Holtzmann thought they were tables. The tabletops looked like mirrors (did the owners think people had the need to see up into their noses while they ate?) and the "chairs" were more like melted metal sculptures than seating. Touchscreen computers had been incorporated into the mirrored tabletops.

The tables were laid out in a pattern like spokes on a wagon wheel. The kitchen was at the center, separated from the tables and hidden from sight by high walls. Orders were delivered through individual slots in the wall at each table.

Janine already knew this was a mistake. "I haven't been to Times Square since-well, since Giuliani started talking about removing the hookers. It was an Italian restaurant called _Toscano's_ last time I was here."

A perky little tow-headed girl who looked to the women like she was all of twelve-years-old flounced over and greeted: "Welcome to Squares on the Square. My name is Dew. I'll be your Dining Facilitator."

Holtzmann turned for the door, her escape thwarted when her heels clung to the foam tiles. Janine tugged her back by the arm. "Give it a chance."

"Can I start you off with a trip to our Oxygen Bar?" Dew offered up two nasal cannulas.

Holtzmann shrank back a bit. "Dew, I've been wearing one of those for two weeks. Put that on me and I'm lighting a match."

Dew looked startled. Janine exclaimed, "Jillian!"

"Did I say that out loud?"

Dew shook it off, used to rude customers. "Okay, well, let me escort you to a table. Would you prefer a Tranquility Table or a Group Experience?"

This time Janine turned toward the door and Holtzmann tugged her back. Turnabout was fair play, after all. "We have no idea what that means," Holtzmann mimicked the younger woman's overeager smile.

"Private table or communal dining table, where you can Skype live with your tablemates?"

Janine was confused. "Skype?"

Dew nodded, still smiling brightly. "Yes."

"With the people sitting across from us at the table?" Janine clarified.

"Yes. It fosters interaction and social connection without the pressure of face-to-face interaction." Dew personally loved the whole concept. She could see her two customers had doubts, but she was certain they'd change their minds.

Holtzmann leaned towards Janine, whispering: "You're seeing her, too, right? I'm not having another concussion hallucination like when I saw the cat in the Robin Hood costume, am I?"

Janine answered Dew: "Tranquility Table."

"Definitely."

Dew led them to a private table, near the back of the restaurant. Holtzmann clung to Janine, trying not to break her leg as she made her way along the foam tiles. The 'dining facilitator' gestured for them to sit on the weird sculpture chairs. "I think you'll like our ergonomically designed tables and chairs—it stimulates digestion by keeping the mouth, esophagus, and stomach in optimal alignment."

"That is not a real thing," Holtzmann informed her.

Dew let the rebuke roll off her. "I'll get you started with a liquid nutrient. Would you like protein, energy, or immunity booster?"

Janine decided to just make the best of it. If she could have a nice lunch with her daughter, that would make the oddness worthwhile. "Oh, I don't know. Jillian?"

Holtzmann was still distracted the chair. "I have a Master's degree in Engineering, and I can't figure out where my butt goes on this thing."

Janine sighed. "Two immunity boosters." As Dew flitted away to get their drinks, she told Jillian, "You need the extra nutrients anyway. Give it a chance."

 _Her first lecture on nutrition from Mom. Oh boy, oh boy_. "I can't leave anyway. I can't cross the floor on these heels. I think I live here now."

Janine glanced at her own chair. "We're pretty smart. We can figure this out. Besides, it's not the place, it's the company. We haven't had time to sit and have a real conversation." She saw down on the only flat surface of the 'chair' and hoped Dew didn't scold her that she's sitting in the wrong spot when she returned.

"Gotta be honest, Janine: If you wanted a deep, emotional conversation, you probably should have caught me before they took me off the pain meds." Holtzmann tried sitting down on the ergonomic metal sculpture, but bending herself in the weird angle tugged at her incision and she winced.

Janine caught the slip. "You _are_ still having pain! Jillian, why did you lie to the doctor?" She tried to stand, but the chair wouldn't cooperate.

"So I could get off the pills and have a beer." _That plan went south fast._ "Besides, Menken only wanted to know if I needed the pills. I don't. I don't like them."

"Here." Janine reached into her tote bag, pulled out her travel pillow, and passed it to her daughter. She'd learned a few tricks from her own surgeries when she'd had cancer. "Put this over your incision."

Holtzmann did so, taking another shot and easing onto the chair. _Abby might have been right about it being too soon for an outing._

"I could never get your father to take medicine either. I would think scientists would trust science."

"I like playing with chemicals, not ingesting them." The touchscreen winked on as soon as they touched the mirrored tabletop. Holtzmann studied the screen and raised her eyebrow. The menu items were listed by 'formula' rather than name. "Speaking of which, I think we need a chemistry degree to decipher this menu."

Janine agreed. Luckily, their waitress returned in time for her to ask: "Um…oh my goodness. Dew, maybe you can tell us what all this…"

"Gobbly-gook?" Holtzmann supplied.

"…means?"

Dew smiled. "That's your meal formula. See, you use your terminal to program your meal using its chemical components. Very scientific."

Holtzmann gave her a wicked smile. "I could show you some 'science', Dew." She wondered how the little fawn of a dining facilitator would like to see what a stream of proton energy could do…

Janine cleared her throat.

Holtzmann caught the hint. "Sorry, Dew. It's just that pseudo-science vexes me."

"Um…okay. Let me program you an appetizer. What would you like?" the girl asked.

"Water, pre-hopped light malt syrup, hop pellets, ice, cold and warm water, ale yeast, corn syrup, iodine solution and bleach."

Dew blinked, confused. _Where was that listed on the computer screen?_ "I'm sorry?"

"That's the formula for beer, Dew." Holtzmann explained.

"Oh sorry, we don't serve alcohol here. It disrupts the energies of the body. Very unhealthy."

Holtzmann took off her shoes and started breaking off the heels.

Janine reached across the table and caught her hand, squeezing. "The shrimp platter will be fine. You aren't allergic right?" she asked Jillian.

"Unfortunately, no."

Dew punched in the order, and the door in the wall soon slid open. A plate with four cubes, one-square inch each, was passed from the kitchen to the table.

"One shrimp platter," Dew announced proudly.

Holtzmann nodded. "Okay, I see the _platter_ …"

"Our food comes in highly concentrated squares for enhance nutrients and flavor."

Janine stared at the cubes. _This was officially a bad idea._ "We're going to need a few minutes, Dew," she asked.

Holtzmann resisted the urge to flick one of the cubes at the dining facilitator as she bounced away. It wasn't her fault she had to work at this freak factory. Besides, she couldn't afford to waste a five-dollar cube of shrimp nutrients. "When she comes back, ask her for some hydrogen so I can take it to the oxygen bar and make us a couple glasses of water."

Janine wasn't eager to bite into one of the cubes, either, so she pushed the plate aside. She shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, Jillian-this really wasn't what I had planned at all. We can try the Mars Restaurant down the street?"

Holtzmann felt a little guilty. She knew she was being a pain, but she was nervous. She made jokes or set things on fire or binged on Pringles when she was nervous. Since she couldn't light a fire and she didn't know how to program the table to make the wall dispense potato chips, she was making bad jokes "That's okay. It's still better than the hospital food." Her elbow hit the touch screen on the table and Holtzmann drew back sharply, hoping she didn't accidently order a $50 cube of Rigatoni or something.

Janine accepted that. "I'm just happy you came. I'm sure you have questions you want to ask me?"

Holtzmann did-but there were so many questions that she had no idea what to ask first.

"Okay, I'll start. Where do you normally like to eat?" her mother asked.

"Well, I'm usually scraping by on grant money, so I mostly eat Bunsen Burner ramen noodles." Holtzmann was glad the first question was a safe question, not too personal. She poked at the computer menu. "You and Egon used to eat here?"

Janine was trying to get used to Jillian calling her and Egon by their given names (or the Ghostbusters calling her daughter 'Holtz' and 'Holtzmann'. She supposed she didn't have the right to expect her to call them 'mom' and 'dad' when they were still essentially strangers.

"When it was _Toscano's_. He would never realize we were on a date, so most of the time he showed up with your Uncles Ray, Peter, and Winston. Peter would hit on the hookers, your dad and Ray would-talk about work-and Winston would watch the ball game on his portable t.v.." _And Janine would polish off a whole bottle of wine, sulking that Egon didn't have a clue how to be romantic while she reevaluated her life choices. It was a miracle she'd ever got Egon's attention long enough for them to conceive their daughter._

"How were the breadsticks?"

Janine sighed, and Holtzmann cringed. She was doing the brat thing again. "I mean-what kind of work did you do?"

Janine had been avoiding that subject since reconnecting with Jillian. She wasn't supposed to discuss the old Ghostbusters, since Homeland Security made all of them sign non-disclosure agreements back when the government took charge of defense against the paranormal in the city.

Hawkins told Janine that the gag order was still in effect…the new Ghostbusters didn't know about the original team and they wouldn't until they were officially consultants with Homeland Security and received security clearance (not to mention signed non-disclosure agreements). Trying to tell Jillian about her father without mentioning the Ghostbusters was going to be like describing Albert Einstein without mentioning he was a genius or a scientist.

"They did research and statistics on…tourists in the city. Keeping track of visitors to New York." _God, couldn't Homeland Security come up with a better cover story than that?_

"I thought Egon was a physicist, too?"

"He was. It was a hobby…the Visitors' Bureau was his day job."

Jillian wasn't buying it. In fact, she looked angry now.

Janine backpedaled. "No, he didn't work for the Visitor's Bureau. Jillian, it's complicated-"

Dew interrupted. "Can I program you an entrée?"

Janine pulled a bill from her purse and shoved it into the girl's hand. "Here's twenty dollars. Go away."

"Okay."

Holtzmann waited until they were alone again. "Did I hit a nerve?"

Janine met her curious stare. "I'm sorry…I really want to tell you everything, it's just, your dad's work is classified."

"What was he? C.I.A.? F.B.I.? A.T.F.? F.D.A.? NASA? Was he a spy? Are you a spy? Like _Scarecrow and Mrs. King_?" Holtzmann rattled off questions. Jillian seemed interested instead of irritated now. Janine decided that was an improvement.

"Not exactly." Janine tried to change the subject. "What about you? How did you get into particle physics?"

Holtzmann fingered the table nervously. That wasn't a safe question. But, Janine was being honest, so she deserved an honest answer. "When I was five, right before he died, my da-Mr. Holtzmann took me to the Planetarium. It made me so curious—I can remember wanting to know how the sun kept burning without going out like a fire, how the planets knew how to revolve around the sun, how could a whole planet be made out of gas? I mean, not in those words exactly, that was just the gist of it. Things a five-year-old shouldn't understand. That's when my par-the Holtzmanns figured out I was a little different from normal kids. They started teaching me basic science stuff-baking soda volcanoes, making caterpillar habitats to watch them grow into butterflies. That kind of stuff." She used to look at the stars when she missed her parents.

Janine had caught on to the fact that her daughter was trying not to hurt her feelings. "Jillian, you don't have to call them 'the Holtzmanns'. It's okay. They were your parents. I'd never want you to think of them any other way. _"_

Holtzmann made a noise like she had something lodged in her throat. It startled Janine despite the fact that Erin and Patty had warned her it was something Jillian did when a conversation started making her too uncomfortable.

Dew rushed back to the table. "Ma'am, are you choking?"

Holtzmann shoved a five-dollar bill at her. "Last warning, Dew. Scram."

"All right, come on." Janine managed, after several tries, to get off the ergonomic sculpture chair. "Let's get out of here."

She helped Holtzmann ease herself off the awkward chair and held her arm as she walked on the broken heels across the tricky tiles. They walked around Times Square a couple of blocks until they found a cart selling falafels and bottled water and sat on a bench to eat.

"What about your mother? I remember she was an artist?" Janine asked politely.

Holtzmann raised an eyebrow. "You met them?"

Janine nodded. "I wasn't going to let just anyone adopt my daughter. If I wanted you to have bad parents, I'd have sent you to live with my mother. You should know, you swim in a gene pool of crazy, and not just on your daddy's side of the family."

Jillian smiled. Crazy she could handle. "Nice."

"The adoption agency sent me a list of candidates they'd prescreened. I must have read two hundred files looking for the right couple. So…tell me about her. Mrs. Holtzmann?"

"She was a sculptor. She made art pieces out of old furniture. And she liked music. She used to take me to concerns. She'd tell security that I was six so I could get in with her. We saw Poison and Devo. I have a picture of her…" Holtzmann got her wallet from her backpack purse and pulled out a photo to show Janine.

Janine squinted at the faded image. "Oh, that's nice…um, what's she doing?"

"Flashing Brett Michaels."

Janine masked her surprise. "I see. It's not at all strange that she gave you that picture…" Jillian loved them. Janine couldn't bring herself to be resentful, she had no right. Wasn't that what she hoped for when she chose them? It also explained why Jillian loves 80s music so much. She'd been listening to it when Janine visited her at the hospital.

"They were good people?" she asked. Jillian smiled sadly, nodding. "I'm sorry about what happened to them. I didn't know."

"You never wondered?"

 _Okay, she heard resentment in that question_. Janine had hit the nerve this time. She knew this particular question would be unavoidable. Better to get it out of the way now. "Of course I did! I thought of you every day. I thought you had a good family, a happy life. It wasn't my right to-I wanted to, but-ugh, Jillian, it's hard to explain." Janine picked at her falafel, avoiding her daughter's gaze.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Janine. I read the adoption file." Specifically, Holtzmann had read the parts that weren't blacked out-and now she knew why things were omitted. The information was 'classified'. Not that she'd had time to do more than try to call up files on Abby's tablet, since Holtzmann only found out her biological parents' identities a couple of weeks ago, shortly before Janine heard about the attack and came searching for her daughter. "I know you had cancer. I get why you did what you did. You don't owe me an explanation. Not like you can explain anyway…"

Janine tensed. "What does that mean?!" _Was this the part where all her daughter's forgiveness turned out to be a lie and she started hurling accusations before sending Janine packing?_ She braced herself for the possibility.

"Your life and Egon's is all 'classified'. Any time I tried to look him up on the Internet, I kept hitting firewalls. Guess I know why now. How are you going to explain what happened if you can't even tell me what you really did for a living?"

It was a fair question, Janine knew. "Well, I can't argue with that. I have something for you…if you want it." She rummaged in her tote and pulled out a photo of her own. She offered it to Jillian shyly. "It's you and your father."

Holtzmann was a little shocked. Tentatively, she took the picture. She knew what her biological father looked like; she did manage to find pictures of him from his days at Columbia University when she searched the Internet. But, having a picture of herself with him was a whole other reality.

Finally, she looked at the photo. It was a picture of the three of them—her, Janine, and Egon. Baby Jillian wore a onesie that read " _Daddy's Little Scientist_ ". He wore glasses, same as her. She had his chin and the shape of his face. Her eyes and nose were like Janine's.

Holtzmann blinked furiously. She wasn't going to cry, not on a street corner in Times Square and not in front of her mom. "Can you at least tell me what happened to him? How'd he die so young?"

Janine hesitated. "Do you really want to know?"

 _Did she_? Holtzmann asked herself. _No, but yes._ The adoption file Patty recovered had listed 'heart failure' as cause of death. That told Jillian nothing. She could have looked it up if most of his life had not been deleted from the Internet. "Yeah."

"Severe electric shock. It damaged his heart," Janine said bluntly.

That was sobering, considering Holtzmann had given herself more than a few good electric shocks in the course of her scientific pursuits. "That's the truth?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Jillian!" Janine corrected herself. "I mean, there are things I can't tell you, but I won't lie to you. If I'd known about the Holtzmanns, or Lydia Englebright and those other bastard foster families, I would have come back for you."

"Yeah," Holtzmann believed her, but it didn't console her that much. _If ifs and buts were candy and nuts…_ "And you didn't remarry? I don't have a step-family that I should know about, do I?"

"Your dad was a tough act to follow…despite being crazy," Janine said.

"I thought maybe you and Ray…" The auburn-haired man had hung back a bit when he brought Janine to visit, not wanting to impose himself on their mother-daughter time unless he was invited, but Holtzmann could see the way he looked at her mother.

"Ray? No. Never."

Holtzmann hid a smirk. _Okay, so mom's oblivious…poor 'Uncle' Ray._

"What about you?" Janine wanted to know. She still went by 'Holtzmann' and didn't wear a ring, but that didn't mean Jillian wasn't married. _If she was married or seeing someone, her Significant Other better have a good reason for not coming to the hospital._ "Are you married? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"My last boyfriend is in the containment unit at the firehouse," Holtzmann answered. She didn't want to get into her dating history with her mother. She didn't think they were ready for that particular conversation.

"Oh." Janine had no idea what to think about that. "I-uh—I didn't know ghosts could do that…"

Holtzmann realized her mistake. "Ew! Janine! No…he wasn't a ghost at the time…I meant Artie."

 _Thank God_ , Janine breathed a sigh of relief. _Artie…wait, she meant Artie Klein? The ghost who attacked Jillian and put her in the hospital. The CERN scientist…_

Janine decided she'd be happier not asking for details. "We should head out. Your friends will probably be upset when they find out I let you stay out this long. You're supposed to be on bed rest." Jillian was already looking worn out just from the little bit of walking they'd done. This was supposed to be a short, uneventful meal, a quick stop at the firehouse to pick up the boxes, and home to bed.

She took Jillian's arm and walked her back to the car. Agent Hawkins had insisted on waiting for them. "I'm really sorry. This was-well, this was a disaster, wasn't it?"

"I would have enjoyed flinging food cubes at Dew..."

"Seriously. Can I have a 'do over'? I'll let you pick the activity next time. Whatever you want to do."

Holtzmann shook her head. _The woman was a glutton for punishment_ … "You have no idea what you're signing up for."

"Think so? Let me tell you about my first official date wi

th your father…the first one without your uncles tagging along. Did you now there are actual museums dedicated to spores, molds, and fungus…?"

GBGBGBGBGBGBGB

"Uh-uh. You are not cleared to go back to work yet."

Abby knew they would be having this argument-probably every morning until Menken released Holtzmann to go back to the firehouse. The engineer was up before Abby the next morning, already going stir crazy from lack of anything to tinker with, build, or blow up in her friend's apartment.

Abby was gathering her bag and pouring a strong cup of coffee before she headed to work. "No heavy lifting, no experiments, no fires or explosions, no large or medium poofs. You're supposed to be in bed right now."

Holtzmann batted her eyes. "Are you coming on to me?"

Abby gazed skyward, beseeching the heavens for strength. "Behave."

The doorbell rang. Abby went to answer, with Holtzmann on her heels. "Just a quick little minute- I had this idea for tweaking the ghost gate."

Abby put herself between her friend and the door. "I said no. Erin and I can tweak the trap." Which wasn't true and they both knew it. Holtzmann's schematics might as well have been written in an alien language. They only made sense to the engineer. "You can do computer research. We have the Hidalgo Casino incident and a few other clients. That's it." She pointed to the laptop and stack of files sitting on the coffee table.

Holtzmann pursed her lips, letting out an exasperated, "Awwwright."

Kevin waited at the door, lugging the first of several big boxes. "Where do you want them?"

"Set them on the floor," Abby instructed, "and don't stack them. Holtz can't lift them."

Holtzmann watched as Kevin laid out the boxes along one corner of the living room. "So, what's all this?"

"These are all the 'get well' presents for you that we've collected for the last month. People started leaving them when they heard you were in the hospital. The landlord complained about the pile, so we had Kevin store them at the firehouse."

Holtzmann was surprised. There were at least five boxes of several hundred stuffed animals, GB action figures, candles, get well cards, children's drawings of the Ghostbusters, and other gifts. _People left these for her_? For once, she didn't have a smart-ass comeback. "What am I going to do with all this? Do I have to write thank you notes for every one of these or can I just do an email blast or a Tweet?"

Abby was enjoying seeing her friend at a loss for words. She was only left speechless when she was genuinely moved. "You've never got a get well present before?"

Holtzmann just stared at her.

"Birthday gift? Christmas presents? Hanukkah gifts?"

"Just from you guys. I mean, you met my foster mothers, right?" The Holtzmanns used to get her Hanukkah gifts and take care of her when she was little. Otherwise, the Ghostbusters were the only ones who cared if she was sick or hurt. She supposed she should add Janine and Uncle Ray to that list as well. "The Children's Home gave me a puzzle for Christmas once. It was a fifty piece puzzle of Elmo. I was fifteen."

"Probably not appropriate for a high school senior, but it's the thought that counts. You can donate these to Toys for Tots…or the Children's Home…if you want," Abby suggested. "Erin can make you a scrapbook of the letters and pictures if you want. She likes doing that kind of stuff."

Holtzmann gingerly kneeled and started pulling items from one of the boxes. A blue crystal sculpture fell out and rolls across the floor. Reflexively, she tried to catch it, grunting at a twinge of pain as the movement pulls at her incision.

Abby rushed to help. "Hey! Hey! What's the doctor's order? No heavy lifting for another couple of weeks. You don't need an infection."

"I'm fine, Abby. But, if my spleen pops out through my incision, make sure you get it on camera."

Holtzmann changed her mind: She was more than ready for alone time. She's been under constant watch for two weeks between the doctors and her friends and Janine. She hated being left behind when they went to go chase ghosts, but she was going to lose her ever-loving mind if everybody doesn't leave her alone just for a few hours.

Abby scolded her. "You're recovering, Jillian. You're not fine yet." Abby tried to lift the box onto the coffee table so Holtzmann wouldn't have to bend so far to unpack it. The box was heavier than she expected and Abby nearly threw out her back trying to lift it. Kevin made them look weightless, but then he was built like a brick house. "Okay, something popped. I think it was my spine. Or a kidney. What the heck are these toys stuffed with? Bricks?"

She picked up the item that had rolled under the coffee table. It was a rather weird blue crystal sculpture with no shape that they could readily identify. When she lifted it, the damn thing shocked her. "Ow!" Abby rubbed at her finger, which was actually bleeding. _Must have caught it on a sharp edge._

"You okay?" Holtzmann asked.

"Fine." Abby went into the kitchen and rinsed the wound. "Thoughtful present for a convalescing patient-it's creepy, but at least it's razor sharp."

Holtzmann stared at the blue crystal. "You are not wrong about the 'creepy'. What is this thing supposed to be? A bird-?"

As soon as she touched it, she had a rush of weird images in her mind and a wave a dizziness makes her stumble. Abby had to run to catch her before she falls.

"Whoah…" Holtzmann grunted, dropping the sculpture.

Abby frowned, worried. "See? You're overdoing it! I'm going to call Erin and tell her I'm staying with you today."

"No, don't." Holtzmann knew Abby was just being hyper-protective, but she really needed some alone time to start trying to get back to normal-well normal as she ever was anyway.

"But what if-?"

Holtzmann pulled out of Abby's grip. She smiled at her friend. "Abs, I love you-" For emphasis, she Bugs Bunny-kissed the tip of Abby's nose. "-but please go away."

"Right." Her friend wanted space. Abby totally understood. She was concerned, but she understood. She picked up her bag and coffee and headed for the door. Kevin was waiting to drive her to the firehouse. "No heavy lifting. No strenuous activity. Don't amputate your broken fingers just to see if you can reattach them. I remember what happened that time you broke your toe. Keep the doctor's number handy…."

Holtzmann made an annoyed grunt and pointed to the door.

"Okay, okay, get going. I'll call you later. Don't take apart any of my appliances." Abby waved over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

Alone at last.

Janine would be stopping by later that morning for a brief visit before she returned to Pawtucket. Agent Hawkins had wanted to assign a guard for the place during the daytime hours while Abby was away, but Holtz argued with him that it wasn't likely another ghost was going to show up and attack her. Holtzmann sat on the couch, pillow laid across her stomach, wondering what the hell she was going to do with herself. The building's dumpsters (and all the stores for at least a ten-block radius) had been emptied the day before, so there wouldn't be any decent e-waste for another day or two. No point risking a dumpster dive until then.

Daytime t.v. did not appeal to her.

She thumbed through the files that Abby left for her. Most looked like minor hauntings, nothing worth getting excited about.

Holtzmann picked up the file for the Hidalgo case. It looked like the shipping manifests for the museum finally came in, so Holtzmann could finish the list of items that the ghosts had stolen. The only thing the Ghostbusters knew for certain was missing was the 'Eye of Tezcatlipoca', and no information on it other than it was some kind of stone that supposedly gave Voga Ra'El his god-like powers.

She tried an Internet search, but there weren't any pictures of it. The exhibit had just opened, so there wasn't time for the media to take photos. The manifests listed it as 'crystal sculpture'. _Probably blue and creepy, right_? Holtzmann joked to herself.

She flipped through a few more files-free floating vapors, semi-anchored apparitions, and complete hallucinations. She made a list of all the equipment at the firehouse that would need maintenance when she returned to work. Finally, she started getting a headache and put the papers and the laptop aside.

Trying to stop fretting, Holtzmann moved to finish sorting the pile of gifts and the boxes of what was left of her personal possessions that Kevin had left in the living room.

She retrieved the weird blue crystal from where it had fallen on the floor and started to set it in the box by Mr. Snickers II…

…and again her head was filled with weird images, stronger this time. Images of…rips in the sky, fire, blood, nebulas and galaxies that were twisted and distorted and surreal. It made her dizzy.

 _Okay, it couldn't be a coincidence._ She dropped the sculpture. No way was she touching that thing again. She searched for a PKE meter to scan the thing, but naturally Abby had cleared all their equipment from the apartment to prevent Holtzmann from working.

Then she heard the voice.

"Abby? Hello?" Holtzmann called.

No wonder Erin didn't like pranks….it was kind of disconcerting to hear a voice and not know where it's coming from. The voice could at least speak English. _Calmanani. What the hell did that mean?_

This could be some kind of complication from the concussion. She could blame the food cubes at the restaurant if she'd eaten any of them. Holtzmann fumbled for her cell phone. She should call Dr. Menken…except that she really doesn't want to go back to the hospital. _Who then? Abby? No, Abby would make her go to the hospital for sure. So would Patty and Erin. So would Janine, so she'd better get her shit together before her mom came over. No, she's fine. Exhaustion. That's what it is. She overdid it going to lunch yesterday. Abby was right. She should go to bed. There was no voice. She's just having another nervous breakdown. Nothing to worry about…if that damn voice would shut the hell up._

 _Architect. Calmanani._

She was about to stand up-which was the moment Holtzmann realized she had picked up the pen from the coffee table and scribbled equations all across her stack of files. She didn't recognize the equations, either. "Uh-oh. That's not good."

She tossed the pen away, but her hand still moved as if it wanted to continue writing. Holtzmann glanced at the blue crystal in the box. Just in case this wasn't a hallucination or a nervous breakdown, she picked up the sculpture and opened the door to pitch it from the second story down to the sidewalk.

The crystal shot a small electrical bolt at her, right at her hand. She felt it all through her body…

…and then she realized that she had jumped from the couch and picked up the heavy sculpture without her stomach or her head hurting. "What-?"

In fact, her headache was gone. Her stomach was tingling, but not sore. She catches her reflection in the mirror by Abby's front door. She didn't the scar on her temple anymore. Then, she lifted her pajama top. The surgical incision scar was gone. "Okay, seriously, what?"

 _This was no hallucination. What the hell is that crystal and where did it come from_?

 _The shipping manifests. It said the Eye of Tezcatlipoca was a crystal sculpture._

 _Shit._

Then the crystal in her hand flared to life with brilliant blue light…

…next thing Holtzmann, she was looking at a very long drop off from the roof of a building.

She was on a rooftop…she didn't recognize the neighborhood, but it looked like New York city.

There were people on the sidewalk below looking up at the sky and screaming. Cars on the street were colliding. Police were attempting to restore order. There was some kind of deafening roaring noise, and she covered her ears against the din.

When she lifted her arms, Holtzmann saw a bullet hole and some dried blood right on the fabric of her pajama top right above her heart. Panicking, she clutched at her chest, but didn't find a wound to match the hole, happily.

 _What was that noise? And what were people staring at?_

Holtzmann looked up-

-into a dimensional cross-rip.

She gaped.

 _That was a damn trans-dimensional cross-rip._ Ghosts swarmed the sky… _Toltec warriors and serpent ghosts._ A helicopter was circling the building. The ghosts attacked it, sending it into the cross-rip.

Holtzmann didn't have time to wonder where she was or how she'd gotten there (she did pause for a few seconds to consider again that she might be hallucinating). Whether this was a real cross-rip or she was losing her mind, she needed the Ghostbusters…

There were fifty-two text messages on her phone and twenty-two missed calls. All of them were from the Ghostbusters, Janine, and Homeland Security. There were even a few from her 'uncles' Ray and Winston.

The date indicated two days had gone by since...since she'd got up off the couch to throw out the creepy crystal sculpture?

Holtzmann frowned. "Well…shit."

TBC….


	3. Missing

_Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters. This chapter is a bit more violent than my usual fare, so warnings for that and language. I sincerely hope you are enjoying the story and thank those of you who favorited/followed it so far. More to come in about a week or two (probably two). On with the story…_

 **2**

 **Missing**

It was the worst feeling of déjà vu.

Abby had been gone an hour. She'd been attempting to follow Holtzmann's instructions for calibrating the containment unit, suspecting that her friend had deliberately written them illegibly hoping that Abby would have to relent and allow her to come do the work personally. She'd given up trying to decipher the scrawls for fear of making a mistake and blowing up a large chunk of New York City and called Holtzmann.

There was no answer at the apartment. Abby tried twice.

She figured that Janine had shown up early, in which case Abby hated to interrupt to call and talk shop. She'd considered holding off on the calibrations, but Holtzmann had made it sound like the maintenance to the unit was high priority (which, again, could have been her way of trying to finagle her way back into work). Abby made up her mind and tried Holtzmann's cell phone.

The cell phone went to voice mail.

Okay, Abby could take a hint. Holtzmann was either out with her mother, sleeping, or sulking and deliberately ignoring Abby's calls. Dumpster diving for scrap parts was also a possibility, in which case she'd rip out her stitches and be right back in the hospital. Abby tried texting: _Holtz – these notes are BS. Call me or I'll let Kevin use your Faraday cage for a spaghetti strainer again._

Still no reply.

Abby set aside the phone and the instructions and told herself she was being paranoid. Her nerves were just fried from two weeks of hospital vigils and worry; she was worrying over nothing. It had only been an hour…

 _Holtz – Kevin is using your proton fork to pick out his toe lint. Call me._

 _Maybe her battery was dead. Holtzmann kept running it out since her new cell phone came with unlimited music streaming._

Thirty minutes, two phone calls, and five text messages later, Abby was walking up the stairs to her own apartment, unpinning her key from her bra. When she reached for the lock, she noticed the door was ajar. "Holtz?" Even if she'd fallen asleep or sneaked out of the apartment, the door shouldn't be open. Abby tensed, the creepy feeling of déjà vu making the hair on her neck stand on end. "Holtz? Why is the door open-?"

Once inside, after taking one sweeping glance around the living room, Abby was pulling out her cell phone to dial the firehouse.

Every surface of Abby's walls, floors, and tables were covered with equations and a few words she recognized as Nahuatl from the research they were doing on the Hidalgo Casino incident and Voga Ra'El. Words were written in ink, lipstick, ketchup…apparently whatever Holtz could get her hands on. There were equations written on the ceiling. _How the hell did Holtz do that_? Abby gaped.

"Crap." She checked the rest of the apartment, hoping Holtzmann was there but knowing she wouldn't be, which she waited for someone at their headquarters to answer her call. _One hour. She'd left Holtzmann alone for one damned hour…this could not be happening again. She was in no shape to deal with ghosts or be dragged around the city by cultists_. _She didn't have so much as a ghost grenade to defend herself._

 _If she even could defend herself._ Abby knew this wasn't an abduction. This was a possession. There was no defending oneself against possession. She knew that all too well.

Finally, Erin's voice came on the line. "Erin? Get over here. Holtz is gone. No, I'm not joking! What the hell kind of question is that?! No-I think our Vogaites are back." Abby looked at the cryptic equations. It was all math and physics way beyond her expertise. If anyone could decipher them, it would be Erin. "And there's something else you need to see."

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Abby heard a familiar siren; Patty and Erin were finally there. It had only been fifteen minutes, but it felt longer. During the interminable wait, Abby had searched the apartment building for any traces of her friend but come up empty. She had called Agent Hawkins, who cursed and promised to get a search underway immediately.

She called Janine. Whatever doubts Abby had about the woman, she was still Holtzmann's mother. She was on her way to the apartment anyway, and the last thing Abby wanted was for her to pull up to a scene of lights and sirens.

Janine had been eerily calm, saying only "I'll be there in ten minutes." She'd hung up before Abby could respond.

Finally, for nothing more constructive she could do for the time being, Abby called Holtzmann's cell phone. It went straight to voice mail. She tried to ping its location, but that didn't' work. It was either off or the battery is dead. _Or a Toltec ghost was blocking the call._

"Abby?" Patty's voice was tight with worry as she burst into the living room, Erin only two steps behind her. "We're here-whoah."

Erin's attention was immediately riveted to the myriad equations, fascinated despite her more pressing concern for Holtzmann. "What is this?"

"You tell me. This math is way out of my league," Abby said. "I don't know what any of it means."

"It means: ' _All play and no work makes Holtzy go bat shit crazy'._ " Patty felt like she'd walked in on a Stephen King novel…which was essentially how she felt at least once a day since she decided to join the ghosthunters.

"I don't think so. This-" Erin pointed to some of the scrawled words. "-is Nahuatl. You're right, Abby, this has got something to do with Voga Ra'El." She silently rebuked herself for letting cases go on the back-burner when Arthur Klein attacked Holtzmann and her recovery became the Ghostbusters top priority. If just one of them had kept up with the caseload, they might have had a jump on the Vogaite cult by now and prevented this…

Abduction? Possession?

Patty got a headache just looking at the math. Math was never her best subject. She didn't even like helping her nieces with their homework. "I checked the EVP before we headed over here. I didn't hear too much chatter, but there was one word." She pulled out her notebook, where she had spelled out the odd word phonetically. " _Calmanani_. Does that mean anything?"

Abby got out her laptop and started doing a search.

Erin studied the equations. It was no wonder that Abby couldn't decipher them. Erin was one of the best physicists in the country, and she floundered just pondering the mathematics on display there. It was a fascinating, jumbled jigsaw puzzle…only she didn't have the picture to show her how the pieces were supposed to fit together. She'd have to study this for weeks or months to begin to crack it, and she didn't have that kind of time.

 _Holtzmann was a genius, but she hadn't created these equations on her own. So, was this a possession?_ Erin turned over that question in her mind. _Voga Ra'El was supposed to be imprisoned in an alternate dimension_ ; h _e couldn't possess Holtzmann. That meant he was controlling her. Or the mystery woman from the Hidalgo Casino was controlling her. How? Why?_

"I've seen bits and pieces of these equations before-there are elements of Superstring theory, Grand Unified Theory-the Theory of Everything, there's even something that looks like a Calabi-Yau manifold. But the rest-some of this is almost over _my_ head," Erin told them.

"What, like that Stephen Hawking dude's movie?" Patty asked.

Abby wasn't a novice in the physics department. "That all has to do with theories of the tenth dimension, right?"

Hawkins and Janine interrupted, knocking just once before they walked in.

"Have you heard from her?" Janine wants to know.

She'd already tried calling Jillian as well. Hawkins had Homeland Security monitoring for activity from Holtzmann's cell phone on the slim chance it was activated.

"Nothing," Abby shook her head.

Janine sat on the arm of the couch, resigning herself to waiting. It wasn't like it was the first time she'd had to wait out someone she loved disappearing because of a ghost…but this time it was her daughter. That was different. It was the most awful feeling she'd ever felt. It was precisely the reason she done everything in her power to prevent Jillian from becoming a Ghostbuster.

"I have the NYPD and Homeland Security looking. We'll find her," Agent Hawkins tried to reassure the women.

"Ray's out in his cab, too," Janine added. Ray had been the first person she'd called when Abby told her that Jillian was missing. The Homeland Security agent gave her a look, silently reminding her to choose her words carefully. "He knows…he knows the city." Actually, he had a PKE meter and he was scanning for spectral activity, but of course she could tell the Ghostbusters that because it was 'classified'.

Abby nodded thanks to them while she typed furiously on her keyboard. "Janine, you're welcome to stay here tonight."

"I appreciate that, but I'd rather help look for Jillian."

The laptop beeped; Abby read from the screen: " _Calmanani_ -it loosely translates to 'Architect'. Also means 'to devise, plan, orchestrate."

"As in 'to build', maybe?" Erin guessed. "The Vogaites have Holtz, it would make sense if they want her to build them something-maybe these equations are the instructions for how to do it?"

"I don't get it. How did they find her? How did they even know she's got the mad scientist skills?" Patty wanted to know.

Agent Hawkins cut in: "Remember—you aren't just dealing with ghosts in this case, ladies. You're dealing with cultists, too. The woman you saw at the Hidalgo was a human being. Human beings can use the Internet to find out anything they want to know about you."

They hadn't thought about that. Hawkins picked up the file folder labeled 'Hidalgo Casino'. "The woman you saw at the Hidalgo calls herself Raina Chaix. Officially, she doesn't exist. I couldn't even find a birth certificate for her. She was the one who persuaded Kurt Vaughn to finance the excavation of Voga Ra'El's tomb and to help bring the artifacts into this country. You said that she was on the roof watching while you all took out Voga Ra'El's ghost buddies. That's probably when she first targeted Holtzmann. Or, she researched all of you and targeted her because of her engineering skills. We've had Holtzmann under guard since Arthur attacked her, so Chaix's probably been biding time until she could catch Holtz alone."

"Oh, my god," Janine blanched.

Abby snapped her fingers. "Wait, wait…you might be on to something. I didn't piece it together until what you said just now. Before Artie interrupted our investigation, we did find out that the item Raina Chaix stole from the display was the Eye of Tezcatlipoca." Abby took the file from Hawkins and rifled through until she found the Customs slip for the items in the exhibit. "Here it is: The Eye of Tezcatlipoca is described as a blue crystal figurine…"

She moved to the boxes that Kevin packed from Holtzmann's apartment. One box had been opened, and Abby knew exactly which one it was and what was missing from that box. "These are the gifts that were left at Holtz's place. There was one creepy ass blue crystal dude in here…"

"I remember that guy. I called him Snake Foot," Patty recalled.

"Well, Snake Foot was in this box a couple of hours ago, and now he's gone." Again, Abby rifled through the files. She pulled out an etching of a Toltec deity with a snake for a foot and held it up for the others to see. "Meet Tezcatlipoca."

"That's the blue crystal dude, all right," Patty confirms. "You think that ugly statue has something to do with Holtz going missing? Or that calamari manifold math on the wall?"

"I'd bet on it. That thing's been sitting in that box waiting for her, and we delivered it to Holtzmann for them." Erin was pissed, not to mention unnerved.

Hawkins was right—they had to be more careful. This was twice in less than a month that Holtzmann had been targeted. They were no longer the anonymous cats shoved into Homeland Security's bag of anonymity (to borrow Mayor Bradley's metaphor). The news coverage might swing back and forth between hailing them as heroes or deriding them as crackpots, but their names and faces were out there. Their work was making enemies for them in the human world right along with the spiritual realm.

"I'm going to add an A.P.B. on Raina Chaix." Hawkins pulled out his phone.

"Thanks, Hawkins," Abby said. "All right, so, we find the Vogaites and we find Holtz. So, here's the plan: Erin, you stay here and work on solving these equations. Figure out what Voga Ra'El and his little cultists want Holtz to build. Patty, go back to the firehouse and get on the EVP. Monitor for any more noise about a Calmanani or an Architect or Voga Ra'El. I'm going with Janine and Ray to look for Holtz. We'll start back at the Hidalgo. When we find her, I'll call." _Not 'if'_ - _when they found her. And God help Raina Chaix when Abby got her hands on the pasty little freak._

Erin didn't have a better plan. Sitting around working on math problems wasn't what she wanted to do while Holtzmann was missing, but Abby was right. This was the most useful thing she could do if they were going to find their friend and stop whatever Voga Ra'El's minions had in mind.

"I'm assigning an agent to each of you in case the Vogaites decide to come back," Hawkins informed them. He'd been issuing A.P.B.s and ordering road blocks while listening with one ear to the Ghostbusters' conversation. "Yates, Janine, you're with me. Tolan, wait here with until we get another agent over here to escort you to the firehouse."

"I am not sitting at the damn firehouse listening for chatter on the ghost microphone! I want to help look for Holtz," Patty protested.

"That is helping…but you're right, Patty. I'm sorry. We'll take turns on the EVP, okay?" Abby understood. She had to remember that wasn't the only one who cared about their friend. "Do me a favor though, Patty? Say some prayers?"

"I'm already on that."

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Janine followed Hawkins to his S.U.V. while the Ghostbusters formulated their plan. The minute they were alone, Janine whirled on the Homeland Security agent: "You need to give them clearance! They need to know the truth-Ray and Winston can help. If this ends up being a case of spectral possession, they can help."

Peter was still convalescing from his fall out the Ghostbusters' window a couple months earlier. He couldn't go galivanting around the city in a wheelchair, much less take on a supernatural army. But, Janine had already called in Ray and Winston to lend a hand. Ray had his own assortment of gadgets back in his warehouse workshop that might help when it came time to rescue Jillian. Erin and Abby might be able to help him fine tune his inventions. Without a doubt, they could accomplish more working with the new Ghostbusters than worrying about helping without revealing their own histories of ghost hunting.

"It's not my decision to make, Janine," Hawkins insisted.

"I have to keep secrets from my daughter! I have to keep secrets from her friends!" Janine hoped she got the chance to make that up to Jillian. "We're Ghostbusters. They're Ghostbusters. How are they not cleared-?"

"Because you and Stantz and Zeddemore and Venkman are officially part of Homeland Security and they-" Hawkins waved to the apartment, indicating the women inside. "—are only consultants. If you tell them anything, Janine, it's considered treason."

The few times he'd attempted to recruit the women into the paranormal defense agency on an official basis, he'd been rebuffed. They would accept the government funding and help out with a case whenever asked, but the women didn't trust them after the agency had dragged all the Ghostbusters' names through the mud trying to keep Rowan North and the Fourth Cataclysm under wraps.

Holtzmann wasn't interested in sharing her inventions and told Rorke and Hawkins so in no uncertain terms. She gave them only the gadgets she was certain couldn't be utilized for anything beyond defense against the paranormal. It would be too easy to convert some of her creations from weapons of paranormal defense into weapons that could be turned against the living (another reason Homeland Security insisted in keeping the scientists on a short leash). The engineer trusted no one besides herself and the Ghostbusters with the devices.

"Fine! Send me to jail! Ghosts already killed Egon. I'm not letting them take my daughter, too. You hear me, Hawkins?" Janine was toe-to-toe with him, glaring up into his eyes. She might be diminutive, but he had no doubt she was fully capable of making good on the implied threat.

Abby was walking down the sidewalk towards them, making them tabling the debate. She had a PKE meter and was calibrating it. "I want to check the Hildalgo Casino first, since that was the site of the first manifestation. Ready to go?

"Absolutely." Janine and Hawkins were still having their stare down while Abby, too distracted to notice, settling into the passenger seat of the vehicle. Rorke arrived on the scene, exchanged a few quiet words with Hawkins, and moved to stand guard at the door to Abby's apartment.

"I'll see what I can do," Hawkins promised Janine before they climbed into the car with Abby.

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Two days passed.

Erin buried herself in the equations. Any other time, she would have thrilled in the challenge of such complicated mathematics and its implications for theoretical and applied physics. She could have lost herself in the puzzle for weeks…but not this time. Her friend's life depended on her solving this mystery. That worry chipped at the distraction of the math; it grew a little stronger each day. Erin forgot to eat or sleep until Agent Rorke reminded her (and if she refused, he insisted by physically ushering her out of the room, ignoring her protests and threats). By dawn of the second day since Jillian had disappeared, Erin's worry escalated into barely controlled panic.

Abby and Patty drove themselves relentlessly. They took turns monitoring the EVP and searching the Internet for reports of paranormal events and driving around the city physically looking for their friend.

Ray and Winston were also patrolling the city with PKE meters, hoping the hell that Jillian was still in New York. After two days, she could have been taken anywhere in the world. Janine rode with them sometimes, other times with Abby or Patty. From time to time, she pulled out her phone and tried Jillian's number again. She did this until the digital voice on the line informed her that the voice mail box was full and the text messages were bounced back.

When she finally gave in to the need for sleep, Janine ended up staying at the firehouse. Abby had nagged and pleaded with the older woman to go to her apartment and get some real sleep (Holtzmann would have expected her friends to look out for her mother), but Janine refused. She wanted to be there to see what was happening firsthand. Abby finally insisted that Janine spend a few hours monitoring the EVP because that would require her to at least sit quietly.

She hadn't meant to, but the worry and exhaustion quickly caught up with her. Janine didn't realize she'd fallen asleep at the EVP until Winston's voice roused her: "Janine?"

He was standing in front of the table, holding two pizza boxes. Janine blinked groggily until she remembered in a rush of fear that she was in the Ghostbusters' headquarters and her daughter was still missing. She blinked at Winston. "What time is it?"

"Seven."

"A.M.?"

"Nope." He set the pizzas on the table. "You need to go get some real sleep."

"I can't." Janine opened the box and dug into a slice, her stomach growling at the prospect of actual food. "It's been two days, Winston. She could be anywhere by now."

Winston sat on the corner of the table. "Ray and I were talking about that. I don't think they've taken Jillian out of the city. From what you told me, this Raina Chaix lady went to a lot of trouble to bring the artifacts from Voga Ra'El's tomb and that Eye of Pez Cat thing all the way to New York. Whatever's going down, it's going down here."

Janine rolled her eyes. "That's supposed to reassure me?"

He shrugged. "I was hoping."

The firehouse's rolling door slid open, and Ecto-1 pulled into the garage. Hawkins' S.U.V. pulled up to the curb in front of the building a few seconds later.

"Uncle Bill?" Patty stretched as she got out of the driver's seat. Her back was stiff from several hours of driving around the city. She nearly gave a shout of joy when she saw the food he had brought. They hadn't eaten anything but disgusting gas station hot dogs while they were running around New York that day. "You read our minds!"

Janine didn't bother to ask if they'd had any luck in their search. They would have already called for her and Erin if they had.

They grabbed some pizza, inviting Agent Hawkins to have some as well. Patty hadn't had a chance to tell her adopted uncle about Holtzmann's disappearance, so she assumed 'Bill' had come to find out why she'd missed dinner at his house the night before. It had completely slipped Patty's mind. "I'm sorry about last night. We're having an emergency here."

Winston squeezed her shoulder. "Believe me, I understand. Janine told me about Jillian. What can I do to help?"

"Pray," Patty said.

Winston nodded, "Already did that."

As if on cue, Janine's phone rang. The caller i.d. read "Ray". She answered quickly, "Ray?"

"Okay, I've got good news, and I've got 'don't panic' news," Ray cautioned her.

She nearly growled. "God, Ray, I hate when you start a phone call like that. Just spit it out." Abby, Patty, and Winston were paying attention now. Janine ignored their questioning gazes.

"I found Jillian," Ray said.

Instantly, Janine was on her feet. She snapped her fingers and waved one hand wildly at the others. Abby and Patty dropped their food and ran to check that their gear was ready in Ecto-1. Abby pulled out her own phone and dialed Erin's number.

Ray continued. "Don't panic, but she's at 78th and Central Park West."

The address clearly meant something to him, but Janine couldn't place it. "She's where?"

Hawkins was at her shoulder, on the phone with his own agents. "Where is she?"

Janine relayed: "78th and Central Park West."

It meant nothing to Hawkins or the Ghostbusters, either…except for Winston. He cursed, "Shit."

Patty frowned at him. "That's bad? What's at 78th and Central Park West?" _And how come her uncle knew the address_?

Winston forgot secrecy in the sudden rush of memories that accompanied that address. He'd never forget that place. It was the first place that he and the original Ghostbusters had almost died. "Spook Central."

Abby stared at Patty's uncle blankly. "I don't know what that means."

Janine did. "Okay, Ray, we're on our way. Keep an eye on her."

As soon as she hung up, Janine and Winston moved with unspoken agreement to the Ghostbusters' cubbies, opened the weapons' locker (with the key Janine had borrowed when Kevin was playing with the PS4 and left the master key set on his desk) and helped themselves to some gear. Janine found grabbed some proton grenades and the proton shotgun. She also put on Jillian's coveralls, since her daughter was just about her size. Winston shrugged out of his suit jacket and rummaged until he found the coveralls Kevin had made for himself. They were a little big-the receptionist was a few inches taller-but they would do.

Hawkins was glaring daggers at them, but made no move to stop the duo. Standing beside Ecto-1 Abby and Patty watched them in confusion. Seeing their frowns, Winston belatedly asked: "Mind if we tag along?"

Patty shook her head, "I don't think that's-"

Winston grinned at her. "Good." He moved to the back of Ecto-1, enjoying the opportunity to inspect the car up close. It was so similar to the vehicle Ray and Egon had put together that Winston felt goosebumps on his arms. "She made the car?" he asked Janine. Jillian's mother nodded proudly. "Nice."

He popped open the tailgate. There were four proton packs. He hoped Jillian wouldn't mind lending her gear to her uncle. Winston hefted the pack, surprised at the weight. "This is lighter than ours. How'd she manage that?"

"Aluminum instead of steel." Jillian might not like to talk about herself, but Janine had discovered that first week at the hospital that her daughter would happily discuss paranormal mythology and nuclear physics all night long.

Winston repeated: "Nice."

"Ray's got his gear?" Janine asked.

"Doesn't leave home without it."

Patty raised her voice, interrupting the banter. She had been watching them prep the Ghostbusters' gear like they were old pros. "Hello? Confused people over here. Uncle Bill?"

Winston glanced at Hawkins. The agent warned: "You realize that telling them-"

"-is treason. We're talking about my goddaughter, here, so I'm not worried about going to jail right now. Besides, we haven't told them anything. It's not treason if they guess, is it?" It was a gray area; Winston knew that as well as the government agent.

In the interest of national security-and safely retrieving Holtzmann-Hawkins decided to accept that for now. He'd have a shitload of explaining to do with his bosses and the mayor later.

Patty was growing more confused by the minute. "Your goddaughter-" How did Uncle Bill even know Holtz except for that one time they met when he came looking for his hearse? And why was he talking to Janine like they were old friends. "Uncle Bill?"

"Get in the car, ladies," he ordered. Winston elbowed past Abby to settle into the driver's seat of Ecto-1 while Janine rode shotgun (literally). Hawkins headed for his own SUV.

Abby asked Patty: "Remember Mayor Bradley said the paranormal cat had been out of the bag before?"

Patty nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"I'm thinking we just found the cats."

Patty didn't get what she was implying, so Abby clarified. "I think maybe they've done this before."

 **3**

 **Up On The Roof…**

Ray usually avoided this neighborhood when he was out in his cab. He turned down fares who requested this street. The Ghostbusters had begged the owners of this particular building not to rebuild after the Gozer incident, or to at least change the architecture so it wouldn't conduct so much supernatural energy. However, since the building was a historical landmark (not to mention a tourist attraction since the Ghostbuster had fended off the first near-apocalypse on this site in 1984), their requests were denied. Real estate in New York City was too valuable to sit vacant…

…and people were morons, Ray groused.

He should have known the Vogaites would be interested in this place. It was a hot spot along the ley lines, a perfect crossover spot if this Voga Ra'El were to try to invade this dimension.

The PKE meter mounted into his taxi had led him to the ghosts that afternoon. The ghosts had led him to this building. He'd been just in time to see Jillian and a woman shrouded in a hooded cloak (presumably that 'Raina Chaix' whom Janine mentioned) go into the tower.

If it had only been Raina guarding his goddaughter, Ray could have taken the woman down easily. However, they were surrounded by an army of ghosts and apparitions. For added fun, Raina had some flesh and blood helpers. Voga-worshippers, Ray presumed. One had knocked out the doorman and tucked him into the alley before taking the man's place. Several more milled along the sidewalk. Others posed as various utility workers along the street.

Obviously, he couldn't take on a whole army of Vogaites by himself, not unless Jillian's life was in immediate danger and he had no other choice. He had to force himself to wait. He parked his cab down the street and monitored, hoping to catch another glimpse of Jillian. _Hang in there, kiddo, we're coming._

He'd been there about a half-hour when, suddenly, one of the serpent vapors manifested right beside the open driver's-side window. The ghost hissed and bared its fangs at him.

It was going to take more than a snake ghost to impress him. Ray pointed to the light on the roof of his cab. "I'm out of service."

The ghost dove for him. Ray pulled out the device Janine called a 'ghost chipper' (he had sneaked it out of the Ghostbusters' weapons locker when he'd checked in with her the night before. He'd been interested to see some of his goddaughter's creations and figured Jillian would forgive him). A flick of the switch, and the ghost was pulled in through the driver's window, goes through the machine, and a blob of ectoplasm was projected out the passenger window and splashed onto the curb.

Ray checked to be sure the ghost's buddies hadn't noticed its demise.

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It began much the same way as it had at the Hidalgo Casino. From the roof of the towering apartment building, Raina Chaix gazed down upon the city. She watched as police cars and government vehicles gathered on the streets below. She heard the thrum of approaching helicopters in the distance. One vehicle distinguished itself from the others-a converted white hearse with flashing lights on its roof and doors emblazoned with the logo of the 'Ghostbusters'.

They had come for their friend. Raina Chaix had distant memories of friends and family. She had followed hers deep into the heart of Central America once, in search of the fabled tomb of Voga Ra'El. Her friends and family had fought for her when Voga Ra'El claimed Raina from their midst and made a slave of her. They had perished. She had mourned for them until she realized they had been gifted with a swift death versus the endless agony of days and nights tormented with Voga Ra'El's visions and voice. Then, she longed to join them, had longed-had begged, had prayed-to join them for over a century.

 _Soon. Soon it would be done. It was time to rest._

Raina turned from the ledge, forgetting the humans below. They would not find it so easy to thwart Voga Ra'El's plans. Her master's will would not be denied. Raina would not be denied the release of oblivion. It was her rightful reward for her suffering.

"They come," she said to the specters that gathered around the rooftop.

Obediently, the ghost warriors and snakes descend upon the Architect's would-be rescuers.

Raina watched the woman as she worked. _Voga Ra'El had chosen his Architect wisely._ Raina was pleased.

By the time the Eye of Tezcatlipoca had summoned Raina Chaix to the tiny apartment where the Architect waited, Holtzmann was furiously scribbling streams of equations as the Eye linked her mind to Voga Ra'El's consciousness-the only part of him that could cross the barrier from his prison for the moment. What Raina had heard as a non-stop, indecipherable monologue was a language to the Ghostbuster, a language she had in common with the disembodied Voga Ra'El. Others had tried, others whom Raina had mistaken for the Architect in her desperation for the prophecy to be fulfilled. They had gone mad in the blink of an eye. They had screamed, they had tried to shut it out. They had flung themselves into rivers, from rooftops, fallen on their blades, anything to escape Voga Ra'El's voice.

This one understood.

If the Architect was aware of Raina Chaix's presence, it was only on the peripheral of her consciousness. Holtzmann had led the way from the apartment. Voga Ra'El's spectral army flanked her, hearing her unspoken commands and scattering across the city to gather whatever items she commanded. She never once acknowledged Raina as Chaix drove them to the abandoned auto plant where the Architect would begin to assemble the device that would release Voga Ra'El from his prison.

Now, ghosts-guided by the Eye-floated the pieces that the Architect had been building for two days and set them in place for her to silently assemble. Holtzmann took two antenna pieces, placing one at the north corner of the roof and one at the south corner, next to the gargoyle statues that lined the rooftop. The antennas form a "V" with the main device, which she was assembling at the center of the rooftop.

The Architect then took the Eye of Tezcatlipoca and broke the stone into three pieces. She placed one piece in each antenna and the third in the main device-Voga Ra'El's bridge.

As soon as the crystals were placed, each device began to radiate power. Each fired one beam of neutrino energy into the sky, the three beams forming a triangle and merging into a single beam that stretched into the heavens.

Space itself began to tear open.

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Ecto-1 rolled up in time for the Ghostbusters to see the energy display from the roof where the ghosts circled.

Ray was waiting for them, blending in with the crowd behind the police barricades. The police pulled aside the barriers to allow the Ghostbusters and the Homeland Security vehicles access to the area. When Ecto-1 pulled along the sidewalk and the crowd began to press for a closer look, Ray took advantage of the police officers' distraction to slip over to the vehicle.

"Have any trouble finding the place?" Ray asked with feigned cheerfulness. He removed his overcoat to reveal the old proton pack he had brought along.

"We did what we always do-we followed the ghosts," Patty answered. She glanced at the pack he wore. It might be 'Proton Pack Mark One', but it was definitely a proton pack. She didn't need to be a scientist to see that. "You, too, huh?"

Ray raised an eyebrow at Janine and Winston. Janine wore Jillian's coveralls and the proton shotgun. Winston wore Kevin's uniform and toted one of the new proton packs. "I take it you told them?"

Winston raised his hands innocently. "They guessed. Not our fault."

"Clever."

Patty pointed a finger at Winston. "We're going to have a long talk after we get Holtz back, 'Uncle Bill'. Or whoever you really are."

"I told you, Patricia, I really am Bill. William is my middle name." She waves him off, and Winston sighed.

Patty was family as far as he was concerned. All the kids that he'd worked with at the Youth Center were special, but Patty had stood out among them. With her heart of gold, her determination, and her capacity for kindness, she had bonded with Winston (or "Bill" as he began to call himself after Homeland Security had begun to cover up the Ghostbusters' existence) and his wife until she was practically family. He hadn't enjoyed keeping secrets from her and more than Janine liked hiding the truth about Egon from Jillian. He'd have to find a way to make it up to Patty later.

Ray handed Patty the chipper. She glared. "How did you get this-? Janine!"

"Thanks for the loan. I brought my own," Ray told her.

Abby also quirked an eyebrow at him. "I can see that. You carry that thing in your cab?"

Ray nodded. "Oh sure, carrying a proton pack your trunk seems silly-until a Toltec demigod invades. Then who's got the last laugh?"

Hawkins' SUV rolled up. The agent saw Stantz standing beside the Ghostbusters, wearing his old proton pack, and threw up his hands. Ray started to speak, but Hawkins cut him off. "I know, I know. 'They guessed.'"

A second SUV soon followed. Erin climbed out, along with the red-haired rookie agent who was guarding her (Crosby or something like that was his name. Erin had only been half-listening, focused on her work with the equations).

Erin stared at Janine, Winston, Ray and their gear. She wasn't going to ask, they needed all the help they could get if they were going to get Holtzmann back from the Vogaites, so she just told them: "Okay, you can catch me up later."

Hawkins briefed the group: "NYPD and Homeland Security will provide support from the air and the ground. The pilots are reporting that Holtzmann and Chaix are on the roof. There are at least three active devices up there. The only roof access is via the stairwell in the southeast corner of the tower."

"We're familiar with the building," Winston told him.

Erin pulled out her notes from her study of the equations. "I'm still working out the math on that puzzle Holtzmann left-but, if I'm right, the Eye of Tezcatlipoca is going to be the power source for that machine Holtzmann built. Remove the crystals and the devices should shut down." Holtzmann had worked out the energy output of the Eye in one part of the equations that Erin could interpret.

Abby somehow was expecting it to be more complicated than 'pulling the plug' on whatever their friend was building. "That seems a little easy."

Patty argued, "Getting past the cultists, the ghosts, the crazy chick in the hood, and the dead Toltec ghost will make up for the easy part."

Winston gestured for their attention, pointing to the roof. A swarm of ghosts was descending upon the group. "Head's up. I think we've been spotted."

The attack came in waves—the spectral wave first. Ghosts in human and serpent forms streaked through the air, the crowd of onlookers scattering in terror before them and the police stepping back to make room as the Ghostbusters moved to intercept the wraiths. Janine and Abby punched a hole in the phantasms front line with the proton glove and proton shotgun. This parted the ghosts like water into two groups.

Erin and Patty came at the ghosts next, letting fly with the grenades and shredding the most massive specters with the ghost chipper. Ray and Winston herded the stragglers back into the fight zone with their proton packs.

Slowly, the Ghostbusters pushed back the wave of ghosts, making their way towards the tower.

Raina watches the fight below. She checked the Architect's progress. The bridge device was operational, but it would take time to open the barrier to Voga Ra'El's dimension. She had to buy time for the Architect to complete her work.

Chaix climbed up on the ledge of the roof and spread her arms wide, focusing on the stone gargoyles built into the sides of the building. The statues shattered, raining chunks of rock down on the Ghostbusters, cops, and Homeland Security.

Abby cried a warning, "Look out, look out!"

Ray dragged Janine behind his cab, shielding her from the rain of debris. Erin and Patty sheltered behind Ecto-1's tailgate while Winston and Abby dove behind an armored police vehicle.

A large boulder plummets right for Ecto-1. Erin shouted to Patty, "Move, move!"

They rolled clear seconds before the gargoyle's head smashes the engine. Winston groaned. "My hearse!"

"Hey, that one's on you. You parked it there," Patty told him.

Raina then gazed skyward at an approaching news police helicopter. The gawkers were a nuisance, not a threat. Still, their presence could interfere with the bridge device, she decided. She sent a gargoyle leg like a javelin smashing into the side of the aircraft. It went into a tailspin, barely managing to make a controlled crash on a nearby bridge.

"Hurry," Raina urged the Architect.

Holtzmann slid the last piece of the bridge device into place and a fourth and final beam fired up into the sky. All around the beams, tiny rips in the sky begin to form.

Patty gaped as the sky began to tear open. "Okay, What the hell are those?"

Erin stared. "I'd say trans-dimensional cross-rips…or micro-rips, at least." The rips were starting out tiny, appearing and then collapsing, each time revealing a different spot-Pisa, St. Helens, Road of Bones, the moon, globular clusters, spiral galaxies, ocean. The portals would seal themselves, only to reappear in random new locations. Each time the rips reopened, they increased exponentially in size. In a few minutes, they'd grow large enough to swallow a car, then a building, then…

She didn't want to think about what came after that.

The human Vogaite cultists came at them next, emerging from inside the building and rushing from their hiding places among the spectators to ambush the Ghostbusters. Since they couldn't shoot flesh and blood assailants with their weapons (as the neutrino beams would burn a person alive), the Ghostbusters use their neutrino wands like bats to fend off the attacks or they punched, kicked, and wrestled them. Hawkins, Crosby, and the police officers moved to help pull the attackers away. The cultists still managed to push the Ghostbusters back, taking back what ground they had gained in making their way into the building.

One caught Abby from behind, wrapped his arm around her throat. Abby slammed herself backwards against the armored police vehicle, pounding once, twice, and a third time before the arm that choked her went slack and the cultist slumped to the pavement.

"We aren't going to get to Holtz in time if we have to deal with these jokers! Erin, Janine-we're going to clear a path to the door!" Abby shouted above the roar of the ghosts, helicopters, and beams that cut into the sky. She figured that Erin had the best shot at shutting down the bridge device if she could get to the roof, and Janine was going to go after her daughter one way or the other. "You get to the staircase and try to reach the roof. We'll follow behind you as fast as we can."

Erin hesitated, but finally gave her a thumb's up. "Okay." She turned to Janine. Ready for this?"

Janine hefted the proton shotgun and nodded.

Abby and Patty used the proton grenades to drive the cultists back with grenades. When the humans stumbled, Ray and Winston moved to take them down. They created a gap in the Vogaite's defenses that allowed Janine and Erin to slip past the guards and into the ceiling.

They ran for the stairs, having to beat back a few cultists and ghosts that pop out along the way.

The lobby had been demolished by the specters. Half the doors had been blown from their hinges; the ones that were left had no signs to indicate what was what. Erin and Janine searched for any sign that read 'stairwell', checking doors as they ran. The first door was a janitor's closet. The second was a restroom.

The third door opened into one of the micro-rips. The portal led to an arctic landscape. Erin stumbled, nearly falling into the chasm, but Janine pulled her back and slammed the door.

Janine nearly chuckled at the absurdity of what she just did. "I'm not sure what good closing the door is going to do."

Erin moved to the next door- _this just has to be it._ "Yes! Stairs!" She raced up the stairway, taking the steps two at a time. Janine was a half-flight behind, pausing to fire at a bird-shaped ghost that swooped down at them.

"Thanks," Erin called back to her.

GBGBGBGBGB

Agent Rorke was aboard a Homeland Security helicopter, serving as eyes for the agents on the street below. He rode in the passenger seat upfront, not taking any chances after his last disastrous chopper ride. In the open belly of the aircraft sat two sharpshooters; one was armed with a rifle, the other with a knock-off version of a proton pack that the scientists in Homeland Security had created (attempting to duplicate Dr. Holtzmann's design when she adamantly refused to share her technology).

The scene above the streets was nearly as chaotic. Not only did the pilot have to weave around specters and wraiths, there were police helicopters circling the building and news helicopters swooping in to get exclusive footage.

Then tiny rips began to appear in the sky. The Homeland Security pilot wisely flew clear, not sure what these phenomena were but anxious not to fly into them and find out.

"Order those news helicopters to get back! This is a hot zone!" Rorke called over the radio. The police aircraft moved, conveying the order to the civilian crafts.

Rorke pointed out the shrouded figure of Raina Chaix to the sharpshooters. Raina appeared to be telekinetically launching more pieces of the building down on the police and agents on the street. "Take her out!"

The shooter tried, but as his finger squeezed the trigger, another micro-rip began to form too close to their aircraft. The Homeland Security ship managed to evade the chasm, but the police helicopter glided directly into it.

The police pilot expected to die the instant his aircraft crossed the event horizon, so he was pleasantly surprised (but still baffled) when the New York City skyline vanished and he found himself suddenly flying above a desert.

His co-pilot gaped. "Where are we?"

The pilot glanced out the window and spied…the Pyramids of Giza. "Looks like…Cairo."

The bullet meant for Raina zinged off the bricks beneath her feet. She turned to the black helicopter from which the shot had originated. It was the Homeland Security aircraft. As she watched, it circled around and lined up for another run at the rooftop.

She waited for them, mustering her power for another strike at the ships. _The humans must not interfere with the Architect's work…_

GBGBGBGBGB

Erin froze mid-stride. "Was that a gunshot?"

Janine had heard it, too. It had come from outside the building, directly above them. The roof. _Jillian._

They ran faster, barreling up the staircase…

…just as a micro-rip began to form beneath their feet. Erin jumped, stumbling as she landed but clearing the gap that had materialized. Janine landed two steps below her, but the stair beneath her feet disappeared. Reflexively, Erin held out the neutrino wand. Janine's flailing hand caught hold of the barrel in a death grip with one hand and a broken piece of the handrail with the other. She looked down to see a landscape of ginger-colored rocks. A volcano in the distance spewed sulfur and fire into a purple sky.

With Erin's help, Janine pulled herself up before the micro-chasm sealed itself, leaving behind a gap in the staircase where the planks had fallen into the tear in space.

"You okay?" Erin asked her.

Janine's eyes were wide. "I'm fine-was that-?"

"An alien planet. Or a parallel universe. I think the machine is—well, it's strictly a theory, but I think it's acting like a radio, trying to tune in the Voga Ra'El's dimension. When it locks on, its' going to open a larger rip probably right above this building. We have to get to Holtz, get her to shut it down."

GBGBGBGBGB

Outside, the other Ghostbusters had watched the helicopters circle the roof. They'd watched a micro-rip swallow one of the police helicopters. They'd seen the black Homeland Security aircraft bank towards Raina Chaix. They heard the gunshots and saw the flash of the muzzle when the weapon fired.

Patty grabbed a fistful of Hawkins' suit jacket. "What are they doing?! Stop them! Holtz is up there!"

Hawkins was as surprised as the others. He had already pulled out his phone. " _Rorke_! Hold your fire! There's a civilian on that roof!"

Rorke's tone was unapologetic. "We have a DX-4 initiative in place, Agent Hawkins."

"Shit!" Hawkins ran for the building. Abby and Patty covered his approach, unleashing a volley from their proton packs that obliterated most of the lobby's exterior wall but sent ghosts and human Vogaites fleeing. "Buy us some time! The Ghostbusters are on the scene, we can contain the situation!"

"They have no authority here, and you know that, Hawk."

Abby managed to overhear the conversation. "What does that mean?" The agent didn't answer, so she pressed: " _Hawkins_! What's a DX-4 initiative?"

Patty paused, watching the Homeland Security helicopter circle around for another pass at the roof. "Yo, Abby-I think it means they're going to shoot Holtz!"

"They wouldn't do that! We're on their side!"

Patty waved to the aircraft and its open door, to the man with the rifle who was visible even from this distance.

"Right." Fury welled within Abby. She shoved past Hawkins, racing for the stairs, scolding him: "We are so not done talking about this, Hawkins!"

GBGBGBGB

As quickly as they had begun, the random pattern of micro-rips stopped. On the rooftop, Raina Chaix, Holtzmann, and the Vogaites paused, watching as a larger cross-rip slowly began to form above the tower. Light—prismatic and blinding as staring into the sun-radiated from the center of the chasm.

Raina dropped to her knees, turning her face away from the painful glare. The spectral army forgot the humans on the street and streaked for the chasm, making wild, excited arcs in the evening sky.

The light poured into through the windows on the stairwell. Erin and Janine squinted, holding up their hands to shield their eyes against the sudden glare. On the street below, all activity came to a halt as night turned to day. From below, Ray and Winston could see a swirling cloud (presumably ecto-plasmic) slowly emerge from the heart of the vortex.

"Voga Ra'El?" Winston guessed.

"Yep," Ray said.

"Back them up?"

Ray headed for the tower. "Yep."

Erin and Janine found the access door to the roof guarded by more cultists. Erin stifled a groan of frustration-they didn't have time for more delays. Janine aimed the proton shotgun and fired over their heads shoots. The blast wouldn't have harmed humans, but they didn't need to know that. The cultists ducked, and a second blast from the shotgun obliterated the door.

This time, they were prepared to find a cross-rip on the opposite side of the door. Erin and Janine grabbed the handrails, hanging on against the pull of the vortex. The cultists fell in, screaming as the intense gravity within the vortex crushed their bodies to the width of a single atom within seconds.

Janine shouted above the roar of the vortex: "Now what do we do?!"

Erin pointed to the window. "Fire escape!"

He no longer had human form. Within the crushing force of his prison, his flesh had been pulverized and every atom scattered across the dimensions, leaving nothing behind but the energy that was his non-corporeal self. His consciousness had lingered, trapped between universes in the nexus of dimensions. After the first century, he learned how to project his consciousness through the barrier between the living and the dead, to touch the minds of the living.

Most of the minds were overwhelmed by the touch of his consciousness. It drove them to madness. A century passed, and then another and another. Time had no meaning within the nexus.

Raina Chaix's was the first mind that could hear his whispers without descending into insanity. The Eye of Tezcatlipoca, which she and her expedition had unearthed, made it possible for her to share Voga Ra'El's consciousness without it destroying her. But, her mind was limited. She could hear his instructions, but to her it was gibberish, a nonsense language. He could guide her to the precise location of his tomb. He could instruct her on the proper use of each artifact in raising his army from the dead. She could not, however, comprehend the mathematics of his nexus prison nor construct the bridge that would convey him across the barrier back to land of the living.

He needed the Architect. He needed a mind that could hear his whispers and understand the breadth and scope of what had to be done. Raina Chaix was not the Architect-but she had found the Architect for him.

When the barrier finally opened, Voga Ra'El sensed her presence.

 _The Architect._

The Architect had succeeded.

But, their work had only begun.

The cloud poured from the vortex until it blotted out the radiating light. It swirled into a column of ectoplasmic vapor, stinking of decay and something otherworldly for which Raina had no word. _At last, this was Voga Ra'El…or rather, what remained of him after he had been hurled into his otherworldly prison._

His voice touched Raina's mind: _Rise._

She straightened, pulling the hood away from her face. "Your servant has done your bidding. The Architect." Raina stepped aside, extending her hand to Holtzmann, who didn't move. Chaix took her by the elbow with exaggerated care and urged her forward.

Voga Ra'El had no real eyes with which to gaze upon either Chaix or the Architect. Rather, Voga Ra'El felt the touch of their consciousness. He saw into their souls. Nothing within their minds was hidden from him. He saw the whole of their lives play out before him in an instant.

He returned it with a vision of their future—his and the Architect's. Voga Ra'El showed her the nexus that had been his prison…incomprehensible to most, it held no terror for the Architect. Her mind was already turning over the new puzzle he presented to her, the mystery of the dimensional nexus.

 _This one-her mind held the wisdom of the ages and a courageous spirit to match. Though that spirit railed against him even under the sway of the Eye of Tezcatlipoca, she would be brought to heel. A worthy vessel. He'd searched the infinite earths, waited an eternity for this moment. Together, they would bend the nexus and the infinite worlds to their mutual will and end the false worlds until the one true Earth remained._

"Bitch, get your hands off my daughter!"

Raina Chaix whirled in time for Janine to punch her squarely in the face.

Janine had beat Erin to the top of the fire escape. She'd stepped onto the roof in time to see the massive ectoplasmic cloud descending on Jillian and that vile woman in the cloak tugging her closer to the…well, Janine assumed that cloud was Voga Ra'El. Somehow, after the multitude of phantasms that the Ghostbusters had fought, she hadn't been expecting the Toltec entity to be in vaporous form.

It didn't matter whether he showed up as a swirling mass of gas or a giant marshmallow man, all Janine cared about was getting Jillian away from Voga Ra'El before he could possess her fully. They'd never get her back if he did.

The punch sent Raina Chaix stumbling, but did not knock her down. Her swarm of protectors reacted at once, lifting Janine skyward, intending to pitch her from the roof. Erin fired a proton beam that made them reconsider. Their hesitation was the only opening Janine needed to blast them with the shotgun.

Aboard the Homeland Security helicopter, Rorke saw an opportunity: Holtzmann and the Chaix woman were distracted by the arrival of Gilbert and Melnitz. Taking out Raina Chaix might be enough to snap Holtzmann from her control and put an end to this assault. If not, Rorke would end it himself.

"Take out Chaix!" Rorke shouted to the sharpshooter in belly of the helicopter.

Raina Chaix felt the bullet slam into her back like a blow from a powerful fist. The bullet tore an agonizing path through her body before exploding from her chest in a spray of blood. It had ripped through her heart, her mind distantly noted.

To her immense gratitude, the wound does not heal.

She felt herself dying, finally dying. As she expected, now that Voga Ra'El had the Architect, he no longer needed Raina. She was free to embrace the death she'd longed for all these years. As she sank to her knees, her life played out before her eyes. Still, her thoughts lingered on that fateful expedition, to her husband and friends who had perished. She hoped to be reunited with them on the other side of the barrier or wherever death was carrying her.

Raina was dead before she finished falling to the cement, a smile curling her lips.

Holtzmann now turned to face the Homeland Security aircraft. At her unspoken bidding, the ghost army of Voga Ra'El forgot Janine and Erin and zeroed in on the helicopter.

Rorke frowned. Holtzmann was still under the control of the entity, even without Chaix.

He couldn't let Voga Ra'El take possession of Holtzmann. The combination of the demon's bloodlust and the engineer's skills was too great a threat to Earth.

Regretfully, Rorke moved to elbow the sharpshooter out of the way. He took the rifle himself.

Erin saw the helicopter circle around again. She saw Holtzmann turn to face the airship and the Vogaite wraiths move to attack it. Then, she saw Agent Rorke training his rifle on Holtzmann.

" _No_!" Erin could not fire on the helicopter with her proton pack, not without destroying the craft and everyone on board. She ran, praying she could reach Holtzmann in time. Behind her, she heard Janine's shout. She thought she heard Abby and Patty adding their cries of protest, but that might have been wishful thinking. Mostly, Erin just heard her own heartbeat deafening her.

Rorke squeezed the trigger.

Abby, Patty, and Hawkins ascended the fire escape ladder and reached the rooftop just in time to hear the clap of gunfire…in time to see Holtzmann fall into Erin and Janine's arms as the bullet slammed into her chest.

"Jillian!" The scream tore from Janine. She eased her daughter to the cement, cradling her head in her lap, nearly vomiting at the spread of blood on Jillian's chest. She was barely aware of Erin kneeling beside her, the younger woman staring helplessly, tears spilling from her eyes as she added her soft prayers to Janine's. "No, no, no…"

Hawkins screamed into his phone: "Rorke, damn it, back off!"

 _As brightly as the consciousness of the Architect had burned, in an instant it was gone. Extinguished._ Voga Ra'el could not scream, but his fury telegraphed like thunder in the air.

His army converged on the aircraft, ripping at its rotor blades and engines. They dragged the passengers from the machine and pitched them to the ground. Rorke managed to land on the roof, the wind knocked out of him but otherwise alive. The sharpshooter and the pilot were not so fortunate. The aircraft itself careened into the cross-rip and was crushed.

Abby was fairly certain her own heart had stopped beating when she saw Holtzmann fall. She didn't know if she screamed or not. She started to run towards Jillian, unsure what she could do to help, not wanting to believe what she had just seen had really happened...

The ectoplasmic cloud (Voga Ra'El? Abby wondered) crept toward Erin, Janine, and Holtzmann. Abby forced herself out of her grief and shock when she realized the danger. Wanting nothing so much as to kill the entity that had caused all this, she fired a restraining beam. "Patty— _Patty_!" Abby screamed, forcing Patty's attention back to Voga Ra'El. "I can't hold him by myself! Help me!"

Patty was numb, her entire awareness replaying the sound of the rifle crack and the image of her friend falling. She was halfway to Holtzmann when Abby's cry halted her. She turned, watching Abby attempting to restrain the undulating cloud that was Voga Ra'El with a single neutrino beam. She scowled at the creature, briefly considering testing whether the ghost chipper could cut through the ectoplasmic cloud as easily as it could any other free-floating vapor. It deserved to die a second death, and a third, to be banished to the most torturous prison imagineable (if only Patty knew what that might be). It might not have pulled the trigger, but Voga Ra'El was wholly responsible for Holtz's-

 _Holtz was not dead,_ her mind denied it. Patty would not allow it.

For the moment, Patty had to settle for adding a restraining beam to Abby's.

 _Voga Ra'El's plans would not be thwarted by these subcreatures. His consciousness reached for the Architect…_

Jillian moved.

Janine felt it. She gasped in shock, praying she hadn't imagined it. _Come on, baby…please._

Her fingers tore at the buttons on Jillian's pajama top, uncovering the bullet wound. As she and Erin watched in disbelief, the wound began to heal itself.

"Holtz?" Erin's fingers went to Jillian's throat, feeling for a pulse.

Holtzmann convulsed, drawing a sudden sharp gasp of air. Her eyes, glazed with shock and disorientation, glances all around-taking in the churning gaseous entity, the destruction of the Homeland Security chopper as it hit the vortex, the serpent and human ghosts gliding in the night sky…even the cell phone that had tumbled from her pocket when she'd fallen. Her hand clutched briefly at her chest as she stared in confusion at the blood and the bullet hole. She slumped back against Janine, breathing out: "Well…shit."

 _The Architect's consciousness returned. Such a simple thing to repair the fragile tissue of living flesh, a small matter compared to crossing a dimensional nexus. Voga Ra'El was be pleased. There was only the matter of dispatching these interfering subcreatures, then he and the Architect could continue their work._

Voga Ra'El was too strong for the neutrino beams. Abby could see the creature tearing free. " _Erin_!" she screamed.

Erin forced herself to move away from Holtzmann, entrusting her friend to Janine's guard. The vortex above was growing stronger. She was starting to feel the tug of its gravity. Loose pieces of mortar on the roof were being pulled skyward into the rip. They didn't have long before the building began to break apart and the gravity was strong enough to pull all of them into oblivion.

 _The Eye. Holtzmann's scribbled equations had indicated that the crystal was the power source of this machine that she had built_ , Erin remembered. _At least, Erin hoped she had interpreted that correctly._

 _But, first…Voga Ra'El._ Erin pulled out a trap. He was a ghost, not a god. Without a host, he could be trapped. He could be contained.

She tossed the trap, smashed her foot on the pedal…and prayed.

The trap sprang open, its energy tearing at the entity, dragging the resisting Voga Ra'El…

 _No!_ Voga Ra'El fought, but the pull of the trap was too strong. _His mind reached for the Architect, begging for help. He summoned his army to defend him._

Hawkins saw the specters against lining up for a run at Abby, Patty, and Erin as they struggled to capture Voga Ra'El. He picked up Janine's proton shotgun and held off the ghosts as best he could, buying time for the Ghostbusters. Seconds later, Ray and Winston climbed onto the roof, adding their efforts to Hawkins', driving the army away from its master.

 _The trap was too strong…the Architect did not answer his call; his army could not reach him. The consciousness that had been Raina Chaix was gone.._

… _Voga Ra'El tried to summon her back._

Then the trap overpowered him and closed him inside.

"Ray! Abby! Get the crystals!" Erin pointed to the antenna pieces at the corners of the roof. "That should shut the machine down!" They nodded their understanding. She headed for the central component of the machine, searching for its piece of the Eye.

She tore it from its place in the device.

The machine powered down, its beams of energy winking out. Erin gazed skyward, sighing in relief as the cross-rip slowly decreased in size until it too blinked out of existence. _Close. That had been too damned close._

Without their master's guidance, the mass of ghosts flitted around in confusion briefly, then zipped away and disappeared into the night. Agent Hawkins moved to check on Raina Chaix, finding no pulse when he felt her throat. He pulled out his phone to send the 'all clear' message to the agents on the street below. Rorke was pushing himself to his feet, grimacing at the pain that lanced through what he was sure was a broken arm.

The Ghostbusters converged on Holtzmann. She blinked, taking in her surroundings in confusion. The last thing she remembered was Abby leaving for the firehouse. Where was she? Wherever it was, the cement beneath her was freezing, the cold going right through the flimsy pajama top and flannel pajama pants she still wore, and-was that blood on her shirt? Arms wrapped around her shoulder, and she was leaning against something warm—someone.

She saw Janine's worried face staring down at her.

"Jillian?! How-?" Janine's squeezed her into a hug so tight that Jillian let out a quiet yelp until her mother loosened her grip so she could breathe again.

Sluggishly, Holtzmann blinked at her. "Janine? Are you wearing my coveralls?"

Janine frowned. "Really? That's the question you want answered right now?"

"Oh my god! Holtz! Is it you? You're not-?" Abby was suddenly there, kneeling beside her, blanching at the blood on her friend's shirt. Erin and Patty were next, the whole group trying to hug their friend at the same time. Their eyes were bright with unshed tears, but Holtzmann wasn't going to mention that.

"Holtz! Damn, you scared us! Are you okay?" Patty snapped. She, too, saw bullet hole. It infuriated her. She glared over her shoulder at Hawkins and Rorke. Hawkins had the grace to look sheepish; Rorke was indifferent, clutching at his arm and wincing. If his limb wasn't broken, Patty might just break it for him.

Holtzmann pushed herself up onto her elbows. It occurred to her she shouldn't be able to do that with her incision…then it occurred to her that she didn't feel the pain from the surgery any more. She lifted her shirt to see the incision was completely gone. _What the-_? "I feel like I just took a weekend bender. Where are we? What was that thing?" She pointed to the sky where the cross-rip had closed.

Her gaze fell on Raina Chaix's body—the woman from the Hidalgo. _Where'd she come from_?

"Long story. We've been looking for you for two days." This came from Ray, who stood a short distance away, smiling down at her. _Was the whole family there_? Holtzmann was getting more confused by the minute.

"I don't remember anything."

"That's typical after spectral possession." Automatically, Erin reverted to being clinical to bring her turbulent emotions under control. She and Janine helped Holtzmann climb to her feet. Patty nudged in, ducking beneath Holtzmann's shoulder to support her friend as she tried to regain her equilibrium.

"What?!" _Spectral possession?_ The more they explained to Holtzmann, the more confused she felt.

Homeland Security agents and police officers swarmed onto the roof, led by Agent Crosby. Medics moved to Rorke. He whispered something to Hawkins, who scowled at the younger man in return. They argued briefly before Hawkins looked in the Ghostbusters' direction.

"Uh-oh. I think he's keeping me after class," Holtzmann cracked.

The Ghostbusters put themselves between their friend and the approaching agents.

"Dr. Holtzmann-I'm Agent Crosby, Homeland Security. I'm under orders to bring you in for debriefing-"

When he reached for his cuffs, Ray caught his wrist and Abby blocked his path. "You aren't touching her. You guys did enough," she warned.

Patty added, "You tried to kill her, now you want to throw her in jail? She didn't do nothing!"

Crosby gestured to the machinery scattered across the roof, to everything that Holtzmann had built. Erin shook her head. "She was under Voga Ra'El's control, obviously..."

"That ectoplasmic cloud was Voga Ra'El?" Holtzmann asked.

Erin nodded. "Yes."

Holtzmann was surprised. "Hmm. He was more gaseous than I would have expected…"

"The entity is contained! She's not under his control anymore!" Abby protested.

Crosby scoffed at that. "Are you sure about that, Dr. Gilbert? Because that thing made her open a dimensional cross rip that could have taken out the whole planet. We can't take that chance."

Hawkins stepped between Crosby and Ray, pushing away the handcuffs. He didn't want to have to throw the older man in jail for pummeling a federal agent. "The cuffs aren't necessary, Agent Crosby. I'm sure Dr. Holtzmann will be happy to answer our questions, but I'm responsible for the Ghostbusters. I'll take care of this."

He hoped they understood that he was trying to help. However, when Hawkins glanced at the group, the Ghostbusters' expressions were anything but trustful of him. Hawkins was disappointed. It had taken him months to begin to earn their trust and one gunshot for that trust to go down the crapper.

He appealed to Holtzmann. "Listen, Jillian-you just spent two days missing and under the control of a malevolent entity. Let our doctors check you over, make sure you're okay. You can answer the director's questions, and it'll be sorted out in a few hours."

Janine answered for her daughter. "We're not leaving her alone with you guys. We're coming, too." It wasn't as if the five of them could fend off the whole of Homeland Security, she reasoned. Plus, Hawkins had a point, they should have a doctor check Holtzmann. God only knew what had happened to her during the two days the Vogaites had her. Just thinking about it turned Janine's stomach.

"I wouldn't expect otherwise."

"I'm fine with all that, but can we find a ladies' room on the way? Not sure where I was for two days, but I'm pretty sure I didn't get a bathroom break the whole time…" Holtzmann hobbled towards the stairs, with Patty and Janine supporting her.

As she passed by them, Janine raised an eyebrow at Ray and Winston. Ray nodded back, reaching for his cell phone. He retreated to a private corner of the crowded rooftop and dialed. "Hey, it's me. Yeah, we found her…yeah, she's okay. I think. But, we need your help. The boys in black are arresting her. Think you can meet us?"

As they left the rooftop, the Ghostbusters and the agents were all too distracted to notice when Raina Chaix opened her eyes.

TBC…


	4. The Truth Comes Out

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Ghostbusters (well, I guess technically I own two shares of Sony, which owns Ghost Corps, which owns Ghostbusters…I wonder if that counts? Probably not._ _). Anyhow, I'm going to again give a warning for violence and language in this chapter. Also, if you read 'One Day at Christmas' (thank you if you did), you might notice some intentional parallels to scenes in this chapter. More to come in the next few days._

 **4**

 **The Truth Comes Out**

She just couldn't get away from doctors.

Granted, Holtzmann would have preferred to be back with Dr. Menkin at a nice normal hospital than what she assumed was a secret research facility belonging to Homeland Security's paranormal defense division. She could also have done without being handcuffed to a gurney while the scientists tested her to see whether or not she was still under the control of Voga Ra'El.

She supposed, considering she had just built a device that generated multiple trans-dimensional cross-rips, their paranoia was understandable. Knowing that she had a two-day gap in her memory, a big blank spot during which she'd been under the control of the Vogaite cult and that psychotic chick Raina Chaix, was disconcerting at best. The blood-caked bullet hole in her pajama top wasn't doing much to settle Holtzmann's nerves.

She had apparently taken her shoes and jacket whenever she'd left Abby's apartment, with the cell phone tucked into the pocket. The Vogaites obviously weren't worried about her breaking from their control to call for help. She was still in her pajamas, but if she'd been building a machine for them, she must have been too busy to worry about her wardrobe. There were many days when Holtzmann ran around the firehouse in her robe and p.j.s because early-morning inspiration for a new gadget had sent her running for the laboratory without thought for getting dressed. _Still, two days and the Vogaites couldn't at least give her a change of clothing? What happened to common courtesy?_

The Homeland Security doctors traded information back and forth, ignoring their patient. Agents Hawkins and Rorke stood unobtrusively in the corner. Now and then, Hawkins would glance in Holtzmann's direction with something akin to an apology in his expression.

A dark-haired doctor with a badge that identified him as Fred Barnes was studying the full-body scan they'd insisted on doing when Holtzmann arrived. "Vital signs and brain activity are normal. It's remarkable-I'm seeing absolutely no traces of damage from the bullet. According to her medical history, she recently had surgery on her spleen and a severe head injury. There's no scar tissue or any other indications of those injuries."

She caught her reflection in the shiny surface of the gurney's guard rails. She already knew the bullet wound was healed and the scar on her abdomen was gone. It looked like the scar on her head had also been healed. Her hair had even grown back where the doctors had shaved the spot to stitch the gash. She was impressed that somehow the Vogaites had the ability to heal her of even a fatal wound, but still Holtzmann frowned. _Damn it, she'd kind of liked that scar…_

Dr. Fred's colleague was a petite red-haired woman with a slight Scottish accent. She was standing too far away to see her badge, but Holtzmann decided she looked like a "Brenda". Dr. Brenda was staring at several different monitors that obviously were being fed information from the electrodes taped to Holtzmann's forehead. "Her brain activity is normal…"

"You might be the only doctor to ever say that," Holtzmann told her.

She ignored the patient. "…no signs of paranormal influence. There are no readings from the standard psychokinetic energy meters, but let's try a multiphase spectrometer scan…"

"Here wait…I created an app for that." Holtzmann pulled out her cell phone, nearly causing Rorke to go for his gun until Hawkins grabbed the man's arm and frowned at him. The doctors turned to blink at the Ghostbuster, who raised her eyebrow. "What? You can make an app for anything nowadays."

There came the noise of an argument from the other side of the laboratory door. All heads turned when the door slid open to admit Agent Crosby and another ghost-Martin Heiss, seated in a wheelchair and wearing much more casual sweatpants and a button-down shirt, rolled himself into the room. He swept the room with his eyes, fixing Hawkins and the medical staff with a withering glare before his gaze fell on Holtzmann and softened somewhat. Considering the last time they'd met the Ghostbusters had let loose the specter who had put him in the wheelchair, she was surprised he wasn't glaring at her, too, or giving her the finger or something.

Dr. Fred stepped into Heiss' path. "Dr. Venkman, your assistance is not required here. We have-"

Holtzmann straightened up, startled by the name. She glanced at Heiss' identification badge: _Dr. Peter Venkman—Director of Research and Development, Paranormal Defense Division._

Peter Venkman. _This was the 'Uncle Peter' that Janine mentioned at lunch? The one who flirted with hookers in Times Square? The one who worked with Egon on his 'classified' work?_

 _This was her parents' 'classified' work? Paranormal studies for Homeland Security?_

 _Awesome._

Dr. Venkman/Martin Heiss gave Dr. Fred a smirk that was pure malice and purred at him: "You have my goddaughter chained up like a lab rat."

Holtzmann enjoyed the way Dr. Fred's complexion suddenly paled three shades lighter. "Can I be a lab monkey instead? They're cuter than rats and I could fling poop at these morons…"

Venkman rolled to a stop by the gurney. He smiled up at her. "Hello, pumpkin."

She grinned, partially from meeting another of her ever-growing extended family, partially for the joy of watching the agents and doctors squirming. "Hi, Uncle Peter."

Peter's smile curled into a scowl as he caught sight of the blood on her shirt. He cocked his head in Rorke's direction. Clearly, he had been briefed about the day's events before he'd arrived. "Would you care to explain why Dr. Holtzmann has a bullet hole in her shirt, _former_ Agent Rorke?"

"I wouldn't mind hearing that story myself. Can't remember a thing," Holtzmann said.

Rorke was defensive. "Dr. Holtzmann was under the control of a malevolent spectral entity. Our procedure clearly states that all necessary measures will be taken to prevent an Apocalypse-level event-"

" _Necessary_ measures! There were Ghostbusters on the scene!" Venkman snapped.

"The Ghostbusters are not qualified to determine-"

If Peter's eyebrows arched any higher, they'd end up on the back of his head. "-what constitutes an Apocalyptic event? Yeah, I think they are! And _I'm_ a Ghostbuster, are you going to shoot me if I get possessed, too?"

Holtzmann's mind was reeling. _A Ghostbuster? Uncle Peter? And if her father and uncles had worked with Peter…_

Peter was red-faced with the force of his fury. "Or did you forget that just like you forgot that the Ghostbusters are our _allies_? That we were the Ghostbusters back when Homeland Security was just a twinkle in President Bush's eye? Let me give you some advice: Don't crap in the hand that pulls your ass out of the fire!"

"I don't know what that means, but I am so going to Tweet that…as soon as I'm someplace where my phone gets bars," Holtzmann decided.

The door hissed open again and a balding man in a dark suit quietly slipped into the room. Holtzmann recognized him even before the agents present tensed to attention. Director Harmon Fosse discreetly nodded to Rorke and Hawkins.

Peter recognized the implicit consent from the Director of Homeland Security. Venkman snapped at Rorke: "Cuffs. Now."

Seething, Rorke obediently moved to remove the handcuff from Holtzmann's wrist…rather surprised to find that she'd already freed herself while the others were arguing. "What?" She blinked. "I built a nuclear reactor. I can pick a lock. It's not even difficult."

Fosse seated himself on the corner of a lab table. "What you don't seem to comprehend, Dr. Venkman, is that there are deeper concerns than whatever relationship you have with Dr. Holtzmann or your past affiliation with the Ghostbusters." If he was upset that the original Ghostbusters' classified existence was now revealed to their current counterparts, Fosse chose to table that issue for the moment. "This the twenty-first century, it's a new world. We have to take a more global view of the threat that these women present, and your quote-unquote 'goddaughter' is the most dangerous of all of them."

Peter's tone went from fire to ice. "What 'threat'?"

The Director elaborated: "Did it escape your attention that she constructed multiple, portable nuclear accelerators and a portable nuclear reactor essentially out of dumpster scraps? Or that her accomplishments have been tweeted, blogged, and posted on every form of social media that exists? What do you imagine ISIS or Al-Queda could do with that kind of tech? Hell, she created a black hole with the CERN collider-"

Holtzmann had to correct him. " _Almost_ created a black hole. 'Cause if I'd actually created one, we'd be dead right now."

"-and a malevolent spectral entity just caused her to build a device that created a…what did you call it?"

Venkman and Holtzmann answered in unison. "Trans-dimensional cross-rip."

Fosse nodded. "So, when I say 'threat', you need to take me seriously. People found it entertaining when you and your friends ran around with ray guns shooting ghosts thirty years ago, but it's a different world now. Dr. Holtzmann is on the list of scientists that terrorist cells are most interested in kidnapping. Did you know that? We've heard the chatter. It seems she's also on that same list for the spectral world."

"With that in mind, we have certain protocols in place to prevent her from being used against this country and humanity, orders that supersede your authority here." Rorke felt compelled to join in…if only because he was the one who had enforced said protocols in the confrontation with Raina Chaix and Voga Ra'El. Hawkins had the grace to look regretful, at least.

Peter comprehended it...and, if possible, he was more furious than before. "Jillian, we're leaving."

Fosse held up a hand to halt them. "There are conditions for her release, Dr. Venkman. The Vogaite device that you built—" He nodded at Holtzmann. "-as well as its power source will remain under guard in this facility for our scientists to analyze its function."

Holtzmann didn't care for that at all. She might have created it under Voga Ra'El's influence, but damn it, that machine was still one of her creations and she didn't share her toys with government pinheads. "I may not be able to remember doing it, but if I built that machine, I can reverse engineer it-"

Fosse was intractable. "Dr. Holtzmann, we still don't know if you are under Voga Ra'El's influence. Until you can be cleared, you will not have access to the Vogaite weapon. You will have an agent assigned to you—for your protection-until we can determine that the Vogaite cult is no longer a threat. Yates' apartment will be secured as well. You will not have access."

Holtzmann was confused. She looked at Peter. "Abby's apartment?"

Hawkins was the one who answered. "You did a little bit of physics homework there while you were under the Vogaites' control."

Peter made a bitter grunt in his throat. Holtzmann was getting a little miffed herself. "I want to stay on this case." She looked at the agents in the corner. "Hawkins, talk to him."

Rorke made a comment under his breath that was not lost on his partner. Hawkins snapped at him. "You got something to say, Rorke? Because I'm not crazy about your methods of 'securing' our assets, and these women are still assets, not threats..."

"You've spent too much time with them the last few weeks playing bodyguard for the blonde, Hawkins. You've lost perspective," Rorke answered quietly, trying to rebuke his partner without the other people in the room overhearing.

"Say that again?" It wasn't a question, it was Hawkins warning the other agent to choose his next words with care.

"I'm saying, get your shit in order," Rorke clarified. "You like these women? You want to strap on a proton pack and ghost hunt with them? You want to screw the blonde maybe? Fine. Get a transfer to another department and let an agent with more objectivity step in. We can't let these women run off-leash forever. We're funding their work, and they're acting like an independent entity. Refusing to share technology, barely cooperating about reporting their activities to us. We can't have civilians running around the city with nuclear weapons and no oversight. We damn sure can't have their weapons falling into the hands of Isis or Al-Qaeda. Sooner or later, they're going to have to officially come into the department-for their safety and national security. You know that."

Holtzmann stuck her arm beneath her top to give Rorke the finger through the bullet hole. Venkman spoke up: "You guys realize we can still hear you, right?"

Hawkins was practically nose-to-nose, toe-to-toe with the other agent. "My objectivity is the reason that we still have four _living_ assets. I don't go around using deadly force on our consultants when it isn't necessary. My objectivity tells me that Dr. Gilbert is the only physicist remotely qualified to help with the math riddle that the Vogaites left in Dr. Yates' apartment-and if the Vogaite clan should make another run at ending the world, we're going to need to understand that math to understand their plan. My objectivity tells me that since you put a bullet in Dr. Holtzmann a couple of hours ago, under orders from this department, I'm probably the only agent who has any chance of fostering the Ghostbusters' cooperation right now."

"He's not wrong about that," Holtzmann agreed.

Rorke smirked, challenging Hawkins: "The Ghostbusters are now aware of the existence of their predecessors. Who let that _classified_ cat out of the bag, Agent Hawkins?"

Hawkins faltered. Rorke nodded, triumphantly.

Hawkins addressed Director Fosse. "If you disagree with my assessment of the situation, Sir, please feel free to take me off the case."

Fosse shook his head. "I don't think that's necessary, Agent Hawkins. I'll authorize Dr. Gilbert to work on the equations, but I still want Dr. Holtzmann kept away from the Vogaite technology until Dr. Stantz and Dr. Venkamn can verify she's no longer under the Vogaite's influence. I'll expect you to assign an agent to the firehouse and Dr. Holtzmann as a precaution."

Holtzmann supposed that was the best compromise she was going to get for the time being. She didn't feel like she was under spectral influence, but hell, even she wasn't one hundred percent sure. _Besides, Erin would tell her everything about the Vogaite equations first chance she got._

GBGBGBGBGB

Peter and Holtzmann, escorted by the agents, moved from the laboratory down the hallway to a waiting area where the Ghostbusters, Ray, Winston and Janine had been pacing since their arrival at the facility. The group rushed to hug Holtzmann.

Janine was first, still cringing at the dried blood. "Jillian! Peter, thank you!"

"The classified work you couldn't tell me about was Ghostbusting?" Holtzmann asked her. "That is…so awesome!"

"Yeah. Awesome." Patty was frowning at her 'Uncle Bill'. "We're still going to have a long talk about this later," she told him.

Ray saw the look on Peter's face. He knew that look; he just hasn't seen Peter look that angry since, well probably not since Egon died. "What?"

"The Hardy Boys issued a DX-4 order."

Hawkins protested, "That wasn't us-"

Abby remembered Rorke had mentioned that right before he'd shot Holtzmann. "Hey, that's right-you still haven't explained that to us."

The senior Ghostbusters were trading grim looks; Janine looped her arm through her daughter's and stared down Hawkins.

Holtzmann broke the silence: "What's a DX-4 order? Uncle Peter? Uncle Peter, what's a DX-4 order? What's a DX-4 order, Uncle Peter? Uncle Peter, what's a DX-4 order?"

Hawkins asked Rorke. "You wanna field that one?"

"Not really," Rorke admitted.

Peter supplied: "Homeland Security seems to think that there are too many corporeal and non-corporeal bad guys who are interested in your inventions. A DX-4 order is standing authorization to make sure that you and your particular skills don't fall into the wrong hands…corporeal or non-corporeal…by any means necessary."

Holtz again played with the hole in her shirt, this time pondering the situation. Janine and the other Ghostbusters were are about to burst a blood vessel. Abby blanched, trying lamely to joke, "I guess it's too late to put that cat back in the bag?"

Erin asked, "What the hell, Hawkins?"

Hawkins answered, "I don't condone what happened on that roof, Erin. But you have to try to see the other side of the argument. A nuclear engineer of Holtzmann's caliber-well, there _aren't_ any other nuclear engineers of her caliber…"

Holtzmann grinned. "That's true."

"...is a tempting target for any terrorist cell looking to create a portable nuclear weapon. Same for Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Yates. I told you before that you have to be more careful, maybe think about officially coming into Homeland Security so that we can protect you the right way."

Patty snorted, " _Protect_ us? We prevent the Apocalypse and they decide it's okay to whack Holtz whenever they feel like it 'cause she's some kind of threat? Hell no!"

Holtzmann had to agree. "I told you before, Hawkins, I'm not going to be a weapons' contractor."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"It's the end result! I come aboard and anything I create belongs to the government!"

Abby added, "Patty and Holtz are right. I say we tell them to go screw themselves and open up shop someplace else."

Erin had been silently processing all the information, but now she blinked. "Abby, what are you saying?

"They tried to kill Holtz! How do we trust them now? I'm saying we should go back to the private sector. We make enough money on calls to fund most of our research without the government's help. We have invitations from dozens of cities all over the country asking for us to open branch offices of the Ghostbusters-Detroit, Boston, San Antonio, New Orleans-got to be lots of work there-Tallahasse, Ontario-okay, that one's technically Canada-Lansing, Las Vegas-there's got to be some supernatural explanation for that city. We have options."

"Abby, it's Homeland Security. Where are we supposed to move that they won't find us?" Erin pointed out.

"We definitely can't go to Switzerland," Holtzmann cracked.

"Canada it is then," Abby said.

Patty was more reluctant. "And what? Leave our families? Our friends?"

Hawkins hated to mention it, but they had to be prepared for reality. "You may not have a choice."

Patty demanded, "What does that mean?"

"The nature of Drs. Stantz and Venkman's and Mr. Zeddemore's work was classified. They weren't supposed to reveal any of it to you. Director Fosse isn't going to buy the "they guessed' garbage. You might have to make a deal with him to keep him from investigating to figure out who to charge with treason."

"They can charge me. I don't care," Janine said. She'd have done the same thing a hundred times over to keep her daughter safe.

Erin tried to reason with her friends, but once Abby's temper got going, she was hard to slow down. "There's a bigger picture here. If terrorists really have us on their kidnap list, we're safer here with Homeland Security-"

Patty shook her head. "Safer? With the Disco Boys?"

"Yeah, no offense but I doubt these guys could stop an oncoming glacier." Holtzmann glanced at Hawkins. "No offense."

"How do I not take offense at that? You're not going to like this either. Holtzmann is still banned from working on the Vogaite tech. The device and the Eye of Tezcatlipoca are going to remain here, and Dr. Yates' apartment is off limits."

"I can't go back to my own house?!" Abby threw up her hands. _Great, now she was homeless._

Hawkins understood her feelings. "I'm sorry, I tried to change the Director's mind. I did convince him that Dr. Gilbert is the best qualified to analyze the Vogaite equations. We'll also be assigning an agent to guard the firehouse. I'll be sticking around, too, just to make sure those freaks don't make another run at grabbing Dr. Holtzmann."

Somehow, Janine hadn't thought about that possibility in her concern for getting Jillian out of the government's grasp. "You think they're coming after her again?"

Hawkins answered, "Voga Ra'El is contained. Raina Chaix is dead. But without knowing the purpose of that machine Holtzmann built, it's hard to know if we've shut down their plans or just inconvenienced them for a while."

"How are we going to know the purpose of that machine if you won't let Holtz look at it?" Abby snapped.

Erin tried to calm her again. "Abby-"

Abby whirled on her. "Seriously! You can't be thinking of agreeing to this!"

"They already confiscated the machine. What do you want me to do?" Erin countered.

She was somewhat surprised when Holtzmann agreed. "The equations obviously connect to the machine. If Erin's working on them, we have a better chance of figuring this out."

Abby still balked. "So what? We keep working with them and hope that the next time one of us gets possessed they don't shoot us in the head?"

Erin had that look in her eyes that she got when presented with a puzzle she couldn't resist. Abby knew that look. Abby figured Holtzmann was probably dying (pardon the expression) to know about that machine. She'd be plying Erin for every scrap of information about the equations. The two of them got too obsessed for their own good.

Ray noticed that Janine looked like she was quietly freaking out, probably at the mental image of someone shooting her daughter in the head after what happened on the roof. He cleared his throat. "I have something back at my lab that might help Jillian recover her memory…"

"Ray, don't-" Janine started.

"…but I have to warn you, it's highly experimental and highly dangerous."

Holtzmann grinned ear-to-ear. "You're singing my song, Ray."

GBGBGBGBGB

"So, when I saw that ghost in the subway and you said I should go talk to Holtzy, you were hoping this whole Ghostbuster thing would happen?"

Hawkins was driving the group-except Erin, who was on her way to the firehouse to put Voga Ra'el into the containment unit before she drove over to Abby's apartment, and Peter, who still wasn't up to the exertion of a long outing-to a warehouse in the Red Hook district just past the recreational area.

Patty was still puzzling out the new information about her adopted Uncle. All she was coming up with were more questions. How had he kept the Ghostbusters a secret so long? What else hadn't he told her? If Patty was his adopted 'niece' and Holtzmann was his adopted 'niece', did that mean that Patty and Holtzmann were now officially cousins? If so, Patty was going to have to pass along Abby's warning about keeping Holtz away from cooking utensils during family reunions.

Winston had discreetly taken a seat up front, out of Patty's reach in case she didn't feel like being reasonable. "It was already happening. I saw Abby and Jillian's posts about the Aldridge Mansion. Truthfully, Patty, I sent you because I knew if Jillian was going to start chasing ghosts, I could trust you to keep her safe."

It wasn't the answer Patty had been expecting. In fact, she felt rather flattered, which made it difficult to stay mad at him. "Oh. Well…thank you. But you could have told me you were into this ghost hunting stuff."

Ray had been waiting for that question, so he jumped in. "We couldn't. After September 11th, when Homeland Security was formed, they expanded the department to include security against paranormal threats. They absorbed the Ghostbusters into the agency, and we officially became part of the paranormal defense division. All our work became classified, which was why most of it was scrubbed from the Internet. Except for the dark net, of course, we're still really popular there." Ray could have made a living off convention guest appearances if his work hadn't been officially classified.

At the time that they had agreed to become part of the government agency, Ray had just lost Carla in the terrorist attacks and had a son depending on him. The last thing he wanted was for Ryan to become an orphan. Winston was more than ready to give up the chase, had been ready since they'd lost Egon.

Peter had been more reluctant to join in what he'd called "selling out". A few years later, Dana Venkman gave birth to her late-life 'miracle child', and Peter became a stay-at-home father for a while before accepting a consulting job, dividing his time between research and development and investigating claims of paranormal activity as "Martin Heiss". His recent accident at the Ghostbusters' headquarters had convinced him it was time to accept the safer job as Director of Research and Development.

Ray was eager to share with the new Ghostbusters, now that the secret was out. He continued: "That firehouse? The reason it sat vacant for thirty years was that it used to be our HQ. Our containment unit had a massive explosion and contaminated the property."

Abby was sure it hadn't been a coincidence they'd ended up in the same building. "And the real estate agent who showed it to us-"

Winston confirmed. "Friend of Peter's."

"Of course."

Holtzmann wasn't too bothered by the fact that her 'uncles' had been quietly keeping tabs on her. Janine had already explained her reasons for staying away, and what was done was done. She was more interested in comparing notes with the senior hunters. "What happened? How'd the containment unit breach? Just so I know what to watch out for?"

Ray frowned at the memory. "Idiot bureaucrat turned off the power grid."

Patty gaped. Shutting off the power could do that? "Wait-the containment unit could explode? Holtz, you need to tell us things like that!"

Holtzmann protested, "I said it was highly unstable! Besides, I have a back-up generator and two redundant battery back-ups in case of power loss to the grid. As long as we don't lose all three at once, we're fine."

"We've been working out of a warehouse in Red Hook since we became consultants," Ray pointed to the building in question as the SUV rolled up to it.

They were down at a waterfront warehouse that looked abandoned and dilapidated by comparison to its surroundings. "Paradyme Imports" was painted on the side of the building, the words partially covered by grafitti. Inside, the warehouse was divided into three work areas (just as cluttered with gadgets and gizmos as Holtzmann's lab), a garage, and sleeping quarters.

What stopped the new Ghostbusters was the duplicate of Ecto-1 that was parked in the garage. It was lovingly preserved, but didn't look as if it had been driven in years. Abby marveled at it, despite being slightly unsettled by déjà vu. "This is—was—yours?" she asked Ray and Winston.

Ray beamed, running his hand along the hood of the car like a proud papa. "The original Ectomobile." He grinned at Holtzmann. "I was impressed how closely you replicated it, kiddo, considering you were only a baby when you saw it."

Holtzmann blinked. "I saw it?"

"You were born in the backseat. Your mother was _pissed_." Winston winced at the memory of angry Janine, newborn in one hand and rolled up newspaper in the other, whacking every one of them for waiting too long to get her to the hospital.

Patty shook her head. So, their baby girl had been born in the back of a hearse—or ambulance, or whatever this was (looked like a hearse to her)."This just explains so much about you, Holtz."

Ray had been giving this some thought since his goddaughter began building devices that were eerily similar to her father's. "With your I.Q., I'm guessing you have an eidetic memory. Spending your first six months around all this probably imprinted it on your subconscious memory. Plus, you are your father's daughter. Presented with the same puzzle and the same variables-specifically, how to capture and contain a spectral entity-it's logical and probable that you'd come up with a similar solution."

 _It was as good a theory as any_ , Holtzmann thought. "Wait, Egon built the containment unit?"

"And our proton packs. Maybe they weren't as elegant as your design, but technology was primitive by today's standards back then."

Abby was prowling around Ray and Winston's work stations, more interested in the photographs at the moment. "Is this Holtz?"

"I want to see!" Patty hurried over, followed by Holtzmann. They remembered seeing Egon's picture when Abby looked him up online after they got Holtzmann's birth certificate. Seeing a personal photo was something much more special.

Holtzmann asked Janine: "You said he died of heart failure from a severe electric shock?"

"Chasing a ghost that haunted the city's power grid." Janine had been silent for the entire car ride. Now, she settling onto a stool, still not looking happy.

Patty murmured, "Damn." The mood in the room instantly grew somber.

Ray let there be a moment of silence for his old friend before he pressed on. "Anyway, one of the last projects Egon and I worked on was a neural stimulator-it was meant to help victims of spectral possession recall lost time under the entity's control." He pulled a box down from a shelf and rummaged until he found what looked like a colander attached to multiple wires. The wires hooked to a small control box. Ray wiped a thick layer of dust off the box.

Winston grunted. "Except nobody who was possessed by a ghost ever wanted to recall the experience."

Ray nodded. "One slight problem."

"So, you don't know if this thing will work or melt her brain?" Patty asked, staring warily at the electric spaghetti strainer.

"Oh, I'm reasonably sure it won't melt her brain," Ray answered.

Abby repeated: "Reasonably sure?"

Abby and Holtzmann inspected the primitive device. It reminds Abby of the headgear used to execute people on the electric chair…but she didn't say that out loud because Janine was already looking upset. She looked at Jillian, whom Abby could tell was already mentally sketching out upgrades to the device's design. Holtzmann would have a new prototype within the week, Abby knew.

"Maybe it's not such a good idea. Erin's working on the math. She might be able to figure out what the Cult of Insanity was doing without you risking this." Abby knew Jillian would take her chances for scientific curiosity if for no other reason. Abby might have done the same in her place. However, it might be an unnecessary risk, and Abby didn't want to further upset Holtzmann's mother, who was already glaring at all of them. Truthfully, neither did Holtzmann.

"Finally, someone is talking sense," Janine grumbled.

"Here's what I think is the best idea: Food, a good night's sleep…okay, it's three a.m.." Abby winced when she looked at her watch. "At least, let's get _some_ sleep…and we come back from a fresh perspective in the morning. Erin's got Voga Ra'El in the containment unit. First thing in the morning, we'll head to the firehouse and connect with her, see what she's come up with on those equations."

Patty nodded. "One addition to the plan: Beer. Food." She moved to the small kitchen area and rummaged through the refrigerator, finding Ray and Winston's stash of beer and a leftover bucket of chicken.

Abby squeezed Holtzmann's shoulder, physically guiding her away from the new toy and giving her a gentle shove towards the kitchen. "Come on. I doubt you've eaten or slept in two days."

Janine watched the others retreat for the kitchen before she addressed the dark-haired woman. "Abby, thank you."

Abby smiled. Despite her earlier misgivings, after everything they'd been through in the past two days—hell, in the past two weeks—the woman was officially okay in Abby's book now. "You, too, Janine."

Janine stood, still watching Jillian. "She's her father's daughter-in every way. I wonder if she got anything from me?"

Abby laughed. "Are you kidding? Janine, you've been scouring the city for her since she disappeared. I saw you put on a proton pack and face down an army of ghosts to save her life. I saw you offer to take the fall about leaking classified information when you knew Fosse could send you to jail for it. I haven't known you long, but I know Holtz definitely takes after her mother."

Now, the older woman smiled, cheeks coloring a bit. "Just believe me, Abby, she'll let her obsession destroy her, too, if she's not careful. I don't want her to end up like her father."

Abby put an arm around her shoulder. "Well, I'm not going to let that happen. I promise. Come on. Food. Now."

GBGBGBGBGB

Dr. Edward Strauss had become a pathologist mostly because he preferred the quiet of the morgue to the chaos of an emergency room or private practice. He had excelled in his field, indeed, he had his pick of opportunities at any hospital in the country. He figured that working in conjunction with the Department of Homeland Security was combining the two noble pursuits of medicine and government service.

Too bad he could never discuss his work with his family or girlfriend. His connection—however distant—to some of the agency's most famous cases would forever be unheralded.

It was especially disappointing today, when he was working in conjunction with the paranormal investigations branch of the agency. The woman lying on his exam table awaiting autopsy reported had demonstrated psychokinetic abilities and telepathic connection to ethereal entities. Dr. Strauss was already anticipating alterations to her brain structure, possibly to the structure of her cells, and he couldn't wait to get started.

He wondered if that was ghoulish. Since he was the only one here—the only one who was alive—he figured it didn't matter.

He sat at his desk, dictating his first notes into the recorder, with his back to the slab. "Victim is identified as Chaix-comma-Raina, female, age unknown, date of birth unknown. Initial cause of death appears to be severing of the Vena cava superior due to a projectile…"

A noise behind him-soft like the sound of flesh against metal—made him turn around at once.

He found himself eye-to-eye with a very naked, very much alive Raina Chaix. Eddie would have scream if his heart had not suddenly lodged itself in his throat. _What the hell? She was dead._ He checked every cadaver that was brought into his morgue no matter how many other medical examiners had pronounced them dead.

 _This was it. He was about to become the first victim of a zombie apocalypse._ Eddie wished he at least had time to call his girlfriend and family and warn them to flee. His eyes swept the room, searching for a weapon, even as his fingers fumbled for the panic button on the underside of his desk top.

Raina Chaix remembered the bullet, recalled the pain of the life ebbing from her body and the elation that she was finally free of the endless torment of connection to the mind of Voga Ra'El. She had not been greeted with gentle white light or the warm embrace of long-dead family. She remembered fire, sulfur, and screams of torment…

…and then the presence of Voga Ra'el had found her again, there in the depths of the pit and fire. It had dragged her back, screaming in protest, until she finally saw light.

The light of the exam table when she opened her eyes.

She was back. Raina fought the urge to scream. No torment of hell was so agonizing as enslavement to Voga Ra'El's madness. _You promised. You promised to let me go_ , her mind screamed.

Her mind was flooded with images in answer: The Ghostbusters capturing her master with their strange weapons; the bullet that killed the Architect and severed her connection to Voga Ra'El, the Architect rising up and shutting down the Bridge, then strange images of patterns of energy and light wherever Voga Ra'El was now. She could barely sense his presence, as if he were beckoning her from a great distance.

She briefly considered running away. Within his confinement in the magic weapons of the Ghostbusters, his consciousness was reduced to but a small corner of her mind…

…but a miniscule torment would still be a constant sliver of madness in her mind. Only death would set Raina free, truly free.

She turned her head to spy the human seated at the desk. A medical doctor. He failed to notice her until Raina Chaix sat up on the cold metal table. When he finally looked up, he nearly fell over himself trying to back away from her. He found himself trapped between Raina and his desk.

"Where is the Architect?" she asked.

The human was too panicked to form a coherent answer. "What?"

Raina stared into his mind. It was filled with absent thoughts of family, mundane daily tasks, notoriety for his pointless work, petty concerns over money, and fretting after sex with his girlfriend. There was nothing of Voga Ra'El or the Architect within his mind. He was useless. Raina broke his neck with a wave of her hand and quickly forgot him.

She was in a morgue, of course. Within the other drawers, she could sense more bodies and the presence of more souls. There were innocent souls being summoned into the light. Raina left them alone. Predominantly, there were souls still trapped in the torment of the violent moments that had surrounded their deaths, resisting descent into fire and darkness.

She summoned the specters, the souls the could not rest. The tore themselves screaming from their corpses. The specters had already begun to contort from their human images of themselves into something more beastly, the true reflection of the soul within. The beasts came to her like obedient dogs.

Raina waved her arm, ripping open the door to the morgue. Alarms blasted immediately.

The alarms did not concern her. She beckoned to the two new servants of Voga Ra'El's army. "The Eye of Tezcatlipoca and the Bridge are near. Find them."

The new ghosts gleefully hurried to obey, disappearing through the walls.

Raina stepped into the hallway. Her mind reached out, seeking what was left of Voga Ra'El's army, the entities that had survived the battle with the Ghostbusters. Their consciousness answered back, joyful at the touch of her mind, eager for instructions. She called them to her.

The humans of the 'Homeland Security' agency rounded the corner, advancing upon her with their weapons drawn. A few of them were disconcerted at the living, naked, former corpse that watched their approach impassively.

Agent Crosby was in the lead. He hid the shake of his hand. They'd warned him when he'd transferred to paranormal investigations to abandon any conceptions he'd had about what was 'normal'. He'd told himself he was prepared for anything.

He was wrong.

"Freeze!" He yelled lamely.

"Where is Voga Ra'El? Where is the Architect?" Raina asked quietly.

The words-the blue eyes boring into their souls-unsettled the armed men and women. Crosby felt her presence coming into his mind, probing for the answers to her questions.

He couldn't allow her into his mind. Crosby squeezed the trigger. Raina waved her hand and his bullet deflected back into his own chest.

The other agents opened fire, some of them taking refuge in doorways and behind trash cans as they did so.

These people did not have the answers Raina wanted. Their minds are panicked and uncooperative. She waded through them. The projectiles of their weapons were deflected away; the few bullets that found their mark left wounds that healed in an instant. She sent the agents flying—some into walls, some into each other, as she made her way down to a sublevel, homing in on the energy of the Eye of Tezcatlipoca.

Her ghost army appeared, falling in line around her, amusing themselves defending their mistress from the pursuing agents. A serpent ghost took position before Raina, psychokinetically breaking down doors and knocking aside agents who attempted to block her path. The serpent ghost led her to the storage area.

 _Yes, the Eye and the Bridge were there_. She sensed it. It was simply a matter of determining which of the storage units of the sub-level housed her prizes.

The agent called Rorke was there as well. At the sight of Raina, he cursed, "Sonuvabitch-!" and fumbled for his weapon. Rorke wasn't sure how Raina Chaix could be alive, but then he saw Holtz die and come back. He should have anticipated Raina coming back, too.

"Where is Voga Ra'El? Where is the Architect?"

"Screw you," Rorke shot back. He was suddenly grateful Hawkins had taken Holtzmann out of the building.

The image of this human sitting in the helicopter, aiming his weapon at the Architect and squeezing the trigger, made Raina seethe. She raised her hand to snap his neck for the audacity of his crime-

-but he had useful information in his mind. Raina paused.

Within his mind, she saw the trap containing Voga Ra'El being wielded by the red-haired Ghostbuster. It was carried to an SUV. Rorke had attempted to get into the driver's seat, but the red-haired woman had sent him away in her own fury for his attack on the Architect. Another agent had been summoned to accompany them. Voga Ra'El had been taken to a firehouse. Raina saw its location.

Rorke had come into the building, to the storage area, directing other workers as they brought in the Eye and the Bridge…brought them inside and stored them in the door that Rorke was now blocking. With a wave of her hand, the door flew from its hinges and her ghost army moved into the room. Another wave of her hand and the Eye of Tezcatlipoca burst from its container and flew into her hand…as did Rorke's weapon.

With a sweep of her arm, Raina flung Rorke into the wall. He slumped to the floor. She'd intended to break his neck, but he lived still. She settled for squeezing her fingers into a fist, hearing the bone in his forearm snap in answer.

Rorke had not known the current location of the Architect, Raina lamented. Voga Ra'El could not control the Architect until Raina used the Eye to re-establish the connection. It would not be so simple this time. She could not catch the Architect by surprise now.

She might not be able to sneak up on the Architect, but there were other ways to encourage her cooperation…

With the human agents held at bay by Voga Ra'el's army, the new ghosts began removing the pieces of the Bridge from the storage room.

Raina formulated her next move. Voga Ra'El must be freed from his captors, who would need to be destroyed so that they did not interfere with his plans again. The Architect had to be located and retrieved.

Raina summoned the serpent specter. "Find the Architect. When you do, take me to her. Her work is not finished."

TBC...


	5. Hell in a Handbasket

_Author's Note: Sorry, this took more than a few days. It was a longer chapter than I was anticipating. It will be a week or two before the final chapter (soon as I can, I promise). Warnings for bad language and violence. Disclaimer: I still don't own the Ghostbusters, but I wish I did._

 **5**

 **Hell in a Handbasket…**

Holtzmann did not sleep well.

She was having nightmares. End of the world nightmares. Voices whispering to her in languages she did not understand nightmares. She was a little scared that the boys in black might be right and she might not be entirely free of Voga Ra'El's influence.

The big blank spot in her memory where two days of her life should have been scared her. Not knowing if she could trust herself, trust her own mind…well, it felt too much like being on the brink of another nervous breakdown. There was nothing that the Vogaite cult could have done that Holtzmann couldn't deal with; she was reasonably certain of that. She would have rather known. She could deal with known factors and variables.

Sometime around dawn, Holtzmann had drifted off. She woke up less than an hour later to Hawkins delicately telling her that Raina Chaix was alive, that she'd stolen back the machines Holtzmann had built and escaped the custody of Homeland Security.

Abby and Patty had left for the firehouse, knowing that liberating her boss would be next on the Vogaite's agenda. Winston had given them a lift in Ray's cab (taking the opportunity to remind them that they'd destroyed another one of his vehicles).

Hawkins—under orders from Director Fosse-flatly refused to let Holtzmann go anywhere near the firehouse. Now that Raina Chaix and the cult of freaks was on the loose, they didn't want her anywhere in the vicinity of Voga Ra'El. No amounts of reasoning, threats of bodily harm, or even flirting would change the agent's mind.

Abby and Patty had surprised her by agreeing. Holtzmann knew they were right, but being left behind while the rest of the team rolled into a fight still pissed her off.

That left Holtzmann to wait.

She hated sitting around with nothing to do. She needed something to do besides worry and question her own sanity.

Janine was showering in the warehouse's tiny bathroom. She'd had a change of clothing in the overnight bag that had been riding around the trunk of the cab for three days, so she left some for Holtzmann. Holtzmann changed and threw the bloody, creepy pajamas into the trash.

With some privacy Holtzmann is staring at the memory device Ray and Egon built. She could get all the answers she needed if she just tried it…

…but she was afraid to try it. Pure and simple. She could get the answers she needed if the freaking Homeland Security morons would have unclenched at let her look at the machines Voga Ra'El had made her build. She was trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. The ability of bureaucracy to make a situation more difficult than it needed to be irritated the crap out of her.

She found Ray's laptop and called up the news coverage of the thwarted invasion. If she could find a good video of the machine in action, it might help. The news helicopters had captured it all, including Raina Chaix's demise and Agent Rorke shooting Holtzmann. Watching herself die in a news video was about as disturbing as it got.

Naturally, that was the moment Janine decided to join her in the kitchen. She set a mug of decaffeinated tea on the table, startling Holtzmann out of her morbid trance.

"Can't sleep?" Janine asked. She hadn't slept at all. Expecting the Vogaite wraiths to come after Jillian or that freak Raina Chaix to break down the warehouse door, Janine had awakened at even the softest noise.

"Bad dreams," Holtzmann said.

Janine glanced over her shoulder at the computer screen, and immediately turned away. "Why are you watching that?!"

"I need information. What do you see?" Holtzmann asked her.

"Jeez, I see my daughter being shot!" Janine snapped at her.

It finally occurred to Holtzmann that the images were upsetting the older woman. She turned the laptop so the screen faced away from Janine. "Micro-rips. The first few are Earth, but these other rips, they look like alien planets. I think they might be parallel dimensions."

Janine tried to play along, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. "What does that mean?"

"The device was tuning into other dimensions…until this last rip locked onto Voga Ra'El's dimension."

Janine vividly recalled the cultists being crushed as they were sucked into the final rip. "So-?"

"So, it's obvious the machine is some kind of-bridge-meant to create a portal between wherever Voga Ra'El has been trapped and our dimension. It's like Rowan North's device, it created a rip in the spectral barrier to allow Voga Ra'El to cross over…only this machine was powered by the Eye of Tezcatlipoca instead of supercharged ley lines."

"You got all that from grainy news video on a Facebook page?" Janine marveled.

"I got way more than that, I'm just confused. I don't get why the machine played multi-dimensional hit-and-miss, why couldn't it just tune into Voga Ra'El's dimension directly? Why was the news helicopter able to survive crossing the rips, but those Vogaites were crushed when they were sucked into Voga's dimension? What's different?"

GBGBGBGBGB

Erin was back at Abby's apartment pouring over the equations again when her laptop beeped-it was a Skype call from Holtzmann. "Didn't think you could stay away long," Erin greeted the engineer.

"You alone?" Holtzmann asked.

"Except for about five boys in black." Homeland Security had posted guards at all the doors, but they were not cleared to see the equations scribbled on the inside walls, so they stayed outside. It was barely six a.m., so their scientists hadn't arrived yet. "Raina Chaix wasn't as dead as we thought."

Holtzmann nodded. "I heard she went 'Terminator' on the Homeland Security office. They won't let me go back to the firehouse in case that's her next stop. You know she's going to try to break out her boss first thing, right?"

Erin hated to agree, but keeping Holtzmann as far from the Vogaite cult as possible was probably a good idea. Logically, the Vogaites would try to retrieve Voga Ra'El and then come after his 'Architect'. Holtzmann was sulking, but she wasn't fighting, so she must have known it was the right decision.

"Abby, Patty, and Winston are at the firehouse with about a dozen agents. I'm glad you called. I could use your help." Erin wanted to be at the firehouse as well, and she had her cell phone handy and Kevin waiting outside with his motorcycle in case Abby called for help, but the best thing she could do to stop Voga Ra'El was figure out this puzzle.

"You figure out anything about the mystery math?"

"I'm seeing elements of different theories-Grand Unifying Theory, String Theory, Supersting Theory. There are words in Nahuatl. Then there are whole sections that aren't math. It kind of looks like a numeric language like binary."

The mention of a numeric language nearly made the engineer bounce in her chair with enthusiasm. "Let me see."

She hesitated. She trusted Holtz, but she had a couple seconds' pause worrying that exposure to the equations might trigger…flashbacks, or something. Holtzmann saw the doubt flutter across her friend's face. "Erin, it's just me in here. The only voices in my head are the mine."

Erin turned the laptop so that the camera pointed at the section of wall she was studying. They were already going to have to negotiate the senior Ghostbusters out of treason charges; Erin would risk sharing a jail cell with them if it meant Holtzmann could help solve this puzzle. Holtzmann was truly impressed. Abby's description of what she'd done at the apartment had been woefully inadequate. Holtzmann had absolutely no memory of doing any of it, but that was definitely her writing.

She copied down the equations, which helped her concentrate. "Those theories all relate to the tenth dimension. You think that's where Voga Ra'El's been locked away?"

"It crossed my mind," Erin said. "Didn't the mythology of Voga Ra'El say something about his enemies using the Eye to open a hole in the sky and imprison him in a celestial tomb?"

"Sounds like a trans-dimensional cross-rip. The ancient Toltec version of a DX-4 order. But, if that was the case, why didn't Raina use the Eye to pop open the tenth dimension and let her boss out? Why did she need me to build them a bridge-wait!" Erin had been panning the laptop camera to a new section of wall. Something about the numbers had caught Holtzmann's eye. "Go back!"

Erin turned the laptop until Holtzmann said, "There! Stop! Okay, those numbers there look a little like computer coding…if you wanted to program a supercomputer to open a trans-dimensional portal."

"First year engineering stuff, then," Erin joked.

"And those…" Holtzmann waved her to another section of the wall. "…are the schematics for those devices I built."

"That much, I figured out. Here's the section I think pertains to Voga Ra'El's prison." She showed Holtzmann the scribblings she had made on the ceiling. "Apparently, you had the ability to defy gravity while you were under their control."

"That is awesome. Whoah-that math would slow down Albert Einstein."

Erin harrumphed. Why did they think it was taking her so long to solve this endless string of equations and numeric puzzles. "No kidding. If I'm interpreting this correctly, Voga Ra'El was imprisoned at some kind of nexus point between the infinities. If our theories about the tenth dimension are true, he could probably see every possible dimension, every parallel timeline, but he couldn't physically crossover into any of them. Can you imagine what that was like?"

Holtzmann got dizzy just contemplating it. "Major brain overload. But that makes some sense. I'm looking at videos from last night…"

Erin gaped. " _Holtz_! That's morbid! How can you watch that?"

Holtzmann stared at her like that was the dumbest question she'd heard, like watching videos of her own death was the most natural thing for her to be doing. "The Men in Black won't let me see the machines. What else was I supposed to do?"

Erin sighed. "Are you trying to reverse engineer those Vogaite devices by watching videos from Facebook?"

"And the evening news."

"Is it working?" Erin wanted to know.

The laptop went to a split-screen so that Holtzmann could show Erin some of the video. "Well…before the main cross-rip formed, it looks like there were multiple micro-rips randomly opening and closing. First it was places on Earth, then places _not_ on Earth. I think the machines were sifting through the infinite dimensions trying to lock on to the nexus point where Voga Ra'El was stuck. Like trying to tune in a station on an old portable radio? Once I go over these schematics, I'll be able to tell you more."

"So, we know the Eye is the power source for opening the dimension portal and the devices you built are some kind of interdimensional navigational devices…but that just leaves me with more questions. Why come to this Earth out of all the infinite options? Why specifically come after you if there are an infinite number of Holtzmanns out there he could have grabbed?"

Holtzmann was nodding. "There's something else-"

"What?"

"How many devices were on the roof? I count four in the video. Is that right?"

Erin wracked her memory. "Three antennas, one main device. Four, that's right Why?"

Holtzmann was frowning. "I'm just starting on this, but these schematics….it looks like there are instructions for five devices here."

GBGBGBGBGB

Her search for Voga Ra'El ended at the firehouse. Raina was familiar with the Ghostbusters; it would have been the first place she'd look without having pulled the location from that fool Rorke's mind. There were more agents waiting, posted on the sidewalks outside the building, trying to appear imposing though they were gnats attempting to bully an elephant by comparison to Voga Ra'El's army. Raina barely spared them a glance. They were already good as dead.

The Architect was not there. Raina did not sense her presence. She waved to a pair of serpent guardians. The waited impassively while she drew the pieces of the Eye of Tezcatlipoca from her cloak. In her hands, the pieces fused themselves into one solid figurine once again.

"Find the Architect," Raina commanded the silent specters. The Eye produced an image in their minds of the New York waterfront, to a warehouse some place called the 'Red Hook' district. "She'll be there. If she resists, summon me."

There was no question in Raina's mind that death had broken Voga Ra'El's control over the Architect, but it would be restored soon. The only variable was whether any residue of his presence lingered within her soul. She did not answer when Raina reached out with her own mind in attempts to contact. Raina might have felt disappointment if she bothered with feelings anymore. For two days, the new presence of the Architect within her mind had almost been distraction from the relentless haunting of Voga Ra'El madness. It had been a very long time since Raina had the balm of true human company among her endless non-corporeal companions.

She pushed wistfulness. It was a waste of time. There was no place in her soul for the tiniest thread of friendship if it were to be offered. She had work to finish.

Her attention turned to the firehouse, and the half-dozen agents barring her path. As the hooded figure materialized before them, they reached for their guns. She waved her hands and smashed them against the brick walls. They slumped to the pavement-dead or unconscious, she didn't care which.

The crash of the firehouse's garage doors being splintered brought Patty running down the stairs. She was just in time to see Raina Chaix leading a phalanx of spooks into the building. They moved for the containment unit.

"Uh-uh," Patty dove down the staircase, dodging as the ghosts blew pieces of equipment off the shelves and sent them flying at her. She moved to what Holtzmann dubbed the 'panic button'-literally a large red button set into the wall. Then, Patty flattened herself against the floor.

One of Holtzmann's latest projects was to replace part of the building's sprinkler system with modified neutrino weapons that formed a crisscrossing proton 'barrier' around the laboratory and containment unit. The barricade sent Raina and the ghosts flying out the doors they had just shattered, buying Patty a few minutes to scramble for her weapons.

Patty remembered Erin freaking out that Holtz had dismantled some of the sprinklers (given how often the engineer sparked accidental fires), and the fire marshal had spent three hours checking Holtzmann's work to assure himself that there was still an adequate, functioning portion of the sprinkler system, but it looked like Holtzmann had been right about the need for the defensive barrier. It was initially meant to hold ghosts inside the building in case of a 'jailbreak' from the containment unit, but Patty thought it worked pretty well at repelling attackers.

"Abby! Abby!" Patty ran for the cabinet where their weapons were stored while the ghost army was still regrouping. The ghosts charged at her again, trying to keep her from getting behind the barrier. She tossed a couple of grenades to beat them back.

A few ghosts got the idea to come down through the roof. Upstairs, Abby saw the specters pass through, alerting her to the attack even before the sounds of grenades and Patty's warning cry. She raced down the stairs in time to watch the ghosts learn the error of their ways as beams from the revamped sprinklers to snake across the ceiling to lance through the ghosts. Patty finished them off with one of the ghost chippers.

"What the-?" Abby scrambled to grab her own weapons and duck behind the barrier.

After about the fifteenth ghost got vaporized by the barrier, Patty shook her head. "These guys are just not getting the message."

"It's kind of sad," Abby agreed.

They were getting nowhere, Raina realized. She leaped onto the roof to reassess their approach. The Ghostbusters had implanted sensors on the rooftop, but they had been programmed to react only to the energies of spirits, not humans.

Machines defied Voga Ra'El's plans, kept him prisoner, held his subjects at bay. Raina knew how to defeat machines: She had but to focus her powers upon the cables that fed power to the machines within the building, flick her hand, and the cables tore themselves from their connections in a spray of sparks.

Inside the firehouse, a warning alarm blared from the containment unit and the safety light that Holtzmann left in place at Erin's insistence flashed. Everything went dark, and the neutrino barrier flickered and died. Only the glow of the flashing red warning alarm illuminated the room-and the green and blue glow of the ghosts as they regrouped for another wave of attack.

"Oh hell…" Patty swore.

Abby frowned, "Yeah, that's not good."

Patty and Winston fended off Voga Ra'El's minions as they tried to take advantage of the situation. Abby ran for the containment unit and switched its power to the back-up generator to keep the containment field from collapsing. With the generator, they could still hold out long enough to repair the main line-after they got rid of Voga Ra'El's playmates, that is.

"Patty, call Erin! We need help!" Abby shouted. They need Holtzmann, but the last thing Abby wanted to do was deliver her friend right into the hands of the Vogaites by bringing her to the firehouse. They were going to have to deal with the situation on their own. Holtzmann had trained everyone on the basic mechanics of the containment unit specifically for this kind of emergency.

Patty rolled her eyes, though Abby couldn't see it. "I've kind of got my hands full here in case you didn't notice!" she yelled back, firing a proton stream into the flood of oncoming specters.

"Damn it…" Abby tossed grenades at the ghost army with one hand, and with the other she fished out her cell phone and dialed Erin.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Erin considered what Holtzmann had just told her. _A fifth device_? "There's something else Voga Ra'El wants you to build? Maybe that's what all this Nahuatl and this numeric language explain…if we could only translate it." _It also removed all doubt as to whether the Vogaites would come after Holtz again…if they weren't already looking for her._

"Maybe I could…"

Erin knew what she was going to say. "What? Try Ray's machine? Holtz, I'm not sure using that's a wise idea."

Holtzmann challenged: "You got a better one?"

She didn't. "No-but….hang on, Abby's calling." Erin pulled out her cell phone. "Abby? Everything okay there?"

"Erin! We've got a big problem! Those Vogaites are trying to spring their boss! They cut the power to the firehouse. We're on the backup generator right now!" Abby shouted to be heard over the sound of safety alarms and proton blasts. Holtzmann could hear it over the Skype connection almost as clearly as if she were listening on the phone's speaker.

"That's it…I'm going to the firehouse." Holtzmann reached to disconnect the call.

Erin shook her head. "Holtz-that's really not a good idea! They'll be waiting for you."

"Erin, if that containment unit loses power…" Holtzmann argued.

"I know! I'm going to the firehouse, you can talk me through fixing it when I get there." Erin barked instructions to both Abby and Holtzmann in a hurried, clipped tone as she gathered up her jacket. "Abby, get Voga Ra'El back into the trap in case we have to move him. I'm coming. Holtz, I'm hanging up. Figure out what that fifth device might be and let me know. Keep your computer on, I'll call you back when I get there."

She disconnected the Skype call before Holtzmann could protest any more. Holtzmann found herself staring at a dark computer screen, fighting the urge to punch her fist through it in frustration. Instead, she keyed up the video snaps that she'd taken during the call.

"Ray?" She called until he emerged from the warehouse's tiny kitchen. "You got a wireless printer?"

"Linked into the laptop and ready to go," he said.

"Good. What about a chalkboard or a dry erase board?" she asked.

He shrugged, waving at the walls. "Eh, use them. I've been meaning to repaint anyway." He tossed her a Sharpe marker.

Holtzmann began furiously recopying equations from the pictures onto the wall. Ray watched in increasing fascination, progressively inching closer until he stood at her shoulder. He picked up some of the photos that Holtzmann had scattered across the floor, marveling at the complex numeric language and the elaborate plans the Toltec demon had funneled into his goddaughter's subconscious.

Janine had slipped into a chair at the kitchen table. She watched as Jillian obsessively re-created the Vogaite math, almost completely forgetting the world around her as she focused on her riddle.

Agent Hawkins, drawn by Holtzmann's shouts, wandered back into the warehouse. Once he saw what the engineer was doing, he rubbed his eyes, wishing desperately that he could un-see it. "If I ask where you got those equations, I really will have to arrest whoever gave them to you…" He said. "…so, I'm just going to drink my coffee. Outside. With my back to the room."

He quite purposely turned and wandered back to the door before he saw anything else. If he didn't confirm that the equations were the duplicates of the ones in Yates' apartment…well, plausible deniability was a friend. Voga Ra'El's whack-a-doodle followers were on the loose. Whatever the Vogaites were planning, he knew they couldn't stop it without Holtzmann's help.

Ray stared at the schematics. "This is what Voga Ra'El wants you to build?"

Holtzmann finally stopped writing, flexing her hand as it cramped from her furious efforts. "The math doesn't lie. You see it, too?"

Ray nodded. "You know what a device like this could do theoretically? You know what this will do if you take it into the tenth dimension?"

 _So, he had been listening to her conversation with Erin._

Leaning on the kitchen table, chin propped on one hand, Janine waited. "You going to share with the rest of the class, kids? Some of us missed the day we covered string theory and…all that other stuff you and Erin were talking about. You figured out the devices, I take it?"

Holtzmann and Ray made their way to the table. She turned over the paper printouts and scribbled on the back of one sheet with a pencil, drawing a straight line. "Okay, this is the extremely basic version of tenth dimension theory. You know the basic four dimensions already-"

"Our three dimensions plus time." Janine had spent enough time with Egon to pick up a few things.

"Okay, so let's say this line represents the timeline created by the Big Bang…" Holtzmann continued.

"I'm a Creationist, but continue."

"Now, major events that occur on this timeline have a multitude of possible outcomes. A meteor could strike the Earth and cause the extinction of the dinosaurs, or the meteor could miss the earth and the dinosaurs survive." Holtzmann drew a second line branching off the first. "Now you have two parallel timelines. Two parallel dimensions. Not just major events, either. A plane takes off from an airport-it can reach its destination safely, it can have engine trouble and be grounded, it can be diverted to another airport, it can crash." Holtzmann drew four more lines branching from the first. "Every potential outcome creates a new parallel timeline. Infinite parallel dimensions."

Janine nodded. "I think I get the idea."

"Theoretically, within the tenth dimension, you would be able to see and potentially to access any of these dimensions…and any historical point on any of these timelines," Holtzmann said. "I think this is where Voga Ra'El was imprisoned. Except there was a barrier between him and the dimensions. He couldn't break through...but his consciousness could reach his followers thanks to the Eye of Tezcatlipoca. He used his consciousness to instruct me on how to build the devices he needed to escape. That was the device on the rooftop."

Janine wondered how the hell Jillian and Erin had garnered all that from a few math equations and Facebook videos. "But he wants you to build a fifth device. Why?"

Holtzmann cringed. "That's where we get to the Apocalyptic part." She picked up a red pen and drew a dot on her makeshift original timeline. "Let's say this dot is the point on our timeline where Voga Ra'El had his last battle and was imprisoned in the 'celestial tomb' or the tenth dimension…his defeat spawned infinite new timelines…including ours. The fifth device is intended to help him break through the barriers in the tenth dimension, carry him back to this point in time, so he can win that battle. He could access any timeline he wants…at any point in that timeline," Holtzmann answered.

Ray could fill in the blanks. "Effectively cancelling out all the new parallel dimensions that branch from whatever point in history he chooses. And, if our timeline is one of those parallel dimensions…" Ray took the pencil from Jillian and erased most of the lines on the paper.

Holtzmann concurred: "This timeline ceases to exist. And he'd be like a god-able to move back and forth along his new timeline changing whatever events he wants. It's all theoretical, of course, but like I said, the math doesn't lie." She turned from the scribblings and stood up to pace the room.

Janine blanched. "So, we make sure that he doesn't get his fifth device."

"We have to prepare for the possibility-" Holtzmann started, until she saw the look of fear in her mother's eye. "-psychopaths have a way of getting what they want. We need to have a plan just in case he finds a way…"

She found herself back at the worktable, staring at the elder Ghostbuster's peculiar memory device. "Ray, this gizmo of yours-if it can help recall suppressed memories from spectral possession, can it suppress a memory in a spectrally possessed person?"

Janine stood up now. "I thought we decided against that?"

"Those cultists are already trying to break their boss out of the containment unit! They could show up here any minute. I don't have time to argue about this, Janine!" It came out harsher than she intended, but Holtzmann wasn't in the mood to have this argument again.

Ray rephrased the question: "Can it bury a memory deep enough in your subconscious to hide it if Voga Ra'El tries to read your mind? Maybe. It could also melt your brain."

"You said it wouldn't."

"I said I was _reasonably sure_ it wouldn't," he corrected her. "You thinking of planning a surprise for our Toltec friend?"

"More like a Hail Mary play than an actual plan right now," she admitted.

Ray was a personal believer in the Hail Mary play, flying by the seat of one's pants, bold but stupid moves, and generally making things up as one went along. Still, he had to point out: "You left that out when you were talking to Erin."

"I don't think she'll like what I have in mind."

"She's not the only one."

Ray gestured to the chair Janine had occupied. It was empty now. Holtzmann hadn't realized that she'd gone.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Holtzmann found her mother upstairs, packing her bags.

"What are you doing?" she asked, although the answer was obvious: She was leaving. For now or for good. Who knew? Holtzmann was surprised by the strong swell of her own disappointment, the way-too-familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Janine couldn't quite look her in the eye. "Sweetie, I'm sorry…I'm going home. There's a bus leaving in a couple of hours. I can't-I can't watch-"

Holtzmann supplied the words for her: "You're bailing."

"You're going to kill yourself, Jillian! In three weeks, you've been in a coma, kidnapped by a Toltec ghost, and now you want to strap on one of your uncle's contraptions and hope it doesn't fry your brain…I just can't-"

"I'm trying to figure out how to save the freaking world, Janine!"

Her mother fired back: "And I'm trying to figure out how to save _you_ , Jillian!"

Janine sat down on the uncomfortable cot. She left space next to her, and unspoken invitation for her daughter to sit with her. Jillian remained standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest and an intentionally blank look on her face.

"When I found out you were coming, I tried to leave your father. Then, I tried to get him to leave with me. Anywhere but here. Sounds terrible, right? I was afraid. He was completely consumed with all this…" Janine gestured around, encompassing the lab, Ecto-1, the gear….the Ghostbusting. "He just couldn't stop. It was who he was, what he was, everything he'd wanted."

Jillian listened, but didn't respond.

"I was afraid to stay. I knew sooner or later this life was going to kill him, and it did. I messed up from the very start. When I got sick, I let you go. Your uncles would have helped me keep you, but I didn't want you to follow their footsteps. I tried to keep you away from this life. You can see, I messed that up, too."

Janine had to look at Jillian. Her daughter was working to keep the neutral expression, but those big blue eyes gave her away. She looked confused, sad, and angry.

Betrayed.

"I wanted so much to make up for all of that, Jillian. For leaving, for not knowing that the Holtzmanns had passed away, for you having to deal with those horrible foster families and everything that happened because of that. But, I can't bring back all that lost time…and I don't have any right to tell you who to be or how to live. You'll end up hating me. Hell, you might end up hating me anyway. I wouldn't want to change one thing about you…but I can't watch you die again." Janine owed her honesty, at least.

Holtzmann would have objected, except that she had already almost died five times in the few months since they had formed the Ghostbusters, so odds were that Janine was right.

She didn't want her mother to go, either. They had barely spent any time together. There was more that Holtzmann wanted to know about her, about Egon…

…but then, another part of Jillian had expected this from the minute her birth mother showed up in the hospital lobby out of the blue. Just like her foster mothers, Lydia and Sophia, the idea of having a daughter, the so-called mother-daughter bond that was supposed to form, always brought these women to Holtzmann…until the reality of having a daughter who was hyperintelligent and bat crap crazy chased them away. Wasn't it better to get it over with before Holtzmann got too attached to Janine?

Holtzmann didn't even know how to respond. It was a little hard to talk when you really just wanted to go hide somewhere and cry. Damned if she'd let Janine see how she'd gotten to her.

She stammered out, not liking hearing the catch in her own tone. "It's fine, Janine. I get that a lot. I just-I wanted to find out about you and Egon, and I did. So, thanks…"

"Jillian-"

Holtzmann's temper won out. "Seriously, Janine, what do you expect me to say to all that shit?! You can't cope, that's your problem! Better to go now than drag it out. Everyone leaves sooner or later. They die or they decide I'm too crazy to deal with. I'm used to it. I can't force people to love me back." She cleared her throat in that familiar noise of discomfort with her own emotions.

Janine was about to say something…call after her…until it hits her what Jillian had said: _I can't force people to love me back._

 _Back._

 _Did her daughter just say she loves her_?

She looked up, but Holtzmann was gone.

"Jillian…" Janine hurried after her.

GBGBGBGBGB

"Abby, hurry with that thing!"

The Vogaite ghosts were relentless. It reminded her of the summer when the bedroom closet of her Grandma Loretta's house had been overrun by carpenter ants. The pests had flooded in through a crack in the wall. Patty had stood there with a vacuum for an hour waiting for the pest control man to show up, sucking up a never-ending stream of the insects as they poured through the small fissure in the wall.

At least the ants hadn't coated the closet with a tidal wave of ectoplasm when they were sucked up...Patty had a feeling they'd be scrubbed slime out of the firehouse for the next two weeks. Assuming they survived.

They had run out of the grenades, and the proton packs were beginning to lose their charge against the endless onslaught. Patty had grabbed Holtzmann's proton pack in order to use the twin proton pistols, needing the extra firepower against the ghost horde. Abby had the ghost chipper at hand as she worked to set the trap into the containment unit. Wraiths that tried to bypass Patty and Winston by entering through the alley wall found their way into the specter shredder. The way things were going, Patty frowned, the ants were going to win…

Winston asked Abby, "You have an idea how to pull one specific ghost out of there?"

"Holtz programmed the containment unit to scan and record the unique energy, radiation, and ectoplasmic signature of the entities. The trap should be able to identify that pattern and retrieve the ghost. We haven't tried it yet because if something goes wrong we're kind of, well, screwed." Abby's hands hovered over the keyboard. She had tried this in simulation, but with a live ghost…she said a quick prayer that she wasn't going to end up being pitched out the window by an angry spook in the next two minutes…

She keyed in the commands. The containment unit emitted another warning klaxon-and then gave a shudder that made Abby take a few steps away from it. The trap itself vibrated in its cradle; a little crackle of electricity sparked down the length of the device. A small poof of ectoplasmic vapor accompanied the transferal of the entity from the larger unit into the trap, and both devices were still and silent.

Abby checked the trap. The energy pattern was a positive match for Voga Ra'El's. He was back in the trap.

"Hah! It worked! And we aren't dead!" she whooped.

GBGBGBGBGB

On the roof, Raina waited with growing impatience. They'd removed Voga Ra'El from the containment unit. She directed the ghosts to retrieve the trap, but their every attack was repelled by the humans in the firehouse…

…which meant the humans in the firehouse had to be removed.

Raina gazed down from the rooftop to the alley and the generator that fed power to the containment unit. This time, she did not settle for ripping the power cables from the wall…she elevated the unit into the air, where it crumpled itself into a mass of twisted, useless scrap metal. For good measure, she pitched it into a passing semi-truck, knocking the vehicle onto its side.

"We need that trap," she ordered the wraiths.

In the firehouse, for the second time, the containment unit went dark and alarms sounded.

Abby slammed her fist against the side of the machine. "Shit! No, no, no, no…."

"Now what?" Patty asked.

"We lost the generator!" Abby answered.

A crash and a chorus of car horns drew Patty and Winston's gazes to the broken garage doors in time to see the demolished generator slam into a passing semi-truck.

"You weren't kidding, were you?" Winston said.

"Is this the part where we blow up?" Patty wanted to know…just in case she ought to be making peace with her creator and last phone calls to her family. And maybe warn the mayor about the fallout zone thing…

"No…not quite yet." Abby had one more card to play. She found the toggle for the battery back-up, and one more time the containment unit hummed to life. "The bad news is we've got about thirty, forty minutes max before New York has a fallout zone five square blocks wide if we don't get the power restored. Fortunately, we won't have to worry about fallout because we'll be dead when that thing blows."

"I've got news for you-we aren't going to be able to hold these guys off for thirty minutes-behind you!" Winston warned. Abby spun to chipper a duo of ghosts that had crept in through the back wall.

She fumed, "That's it, I am done with this!" Abby set the trap on the floor and deployed the foot trigger.

Patty glanced over her shoulder. "Abby, what are you doing?"

Abby aimed the ghost chipper at the trap, her foot poised over the trap's trigger. She stared down the next band of ghosts that glided into the garage. "Okay, fellas, here's the deal: Back out of here right now or your boss is a puddle of snot on our garage floor. Got it?"

The ghosts exchanged puzzled glances with one another, a few uttered noises distinctly like growls.

"Three…two…" Abby warned.

The ghosts backed out of the garage, retreating as far as the entryway until Abby stomped her foot, missing the trigger by millimeters. Letting out bellows of rage, the specters shot skyward and vanished from the Ghostbusters' view.

Patty sighed. "Crude, but I think they got the message for now…"

With deafening screams, the ghost army reappeared in streaks of blues and green- knocking Patty and Winston aside and plowing full force into Abby. She crashed into Holtzmann's worktable with a bone-jarring thud. A serpent ghost picked up the trap containing Voga Ra'El in its massive jaw.

A second serpent ghost floated over Patty and Winston, curling its lips into a sneer full of fangs that were no less fearsome for being formed of ectoplasmic vapor.

"…nope. Nevermind. We're going to die," Patty added.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Holtzmann managed to get out the side door to the warehouse unseen before she started to cry. She didn't want anyone to see her do it (well, there were a few pigeons staring at her, but they were pretty cool about keeping secrets). Hawkins had left the SUV parked there. She picked the lock without difficulty, made even quicker work of hotwiring the vehicle, and cranked up the radio on the first Bret Michaels song she found.

Gradually, Holtzmann started pulling herself together, chiding herself for getting this upset. She shouldn't have let herself believe Janine was going to be different…hell, she shouldn't even care. Janine had shown up uninvited, Jillian hadn't gone searching for her. She'd done the right thing for her part, hadn't she? She'd accepted Janine's requests for some mother-daughter time, put up with the high heels and their weird restaurants, and generally done her best impersonation of a relatively normal and mostly well-adjusted woman, right? If that wasn't good enough, screw it.

She had to get back to solving the Vogaite problem. Erin and Abby were going to be calling soon for help with that containment unit. _Shit, hopefully they hadn't called already_ …Holtzmann dug out her cell phone.

 _Fifty-two text messages and twenty-two missed calls._ All of them had come in during the two days that Holtzmann was abducted _._ She had a fuzzy memory from the rooftop of seeing this same message on her phone. Her friends, Janine, her new uncles. They couldn't have believed she was checking her messages while the Vogaites were keeping her prisoner; it must have made them feel better to try. She'd scared the crap out of everyone, disappearing like that.

Leave it to Abby to try to get her to reply by threatening to turn Kevin loose on her lab. _That would have worked, too,_ Holtzmann grinned _._

Patty's texts were reassurance after reassurance that they were coming to get Holtzmann. Typical big sister-well, correction, she supposed if Winston was Patty's uncle, too, that made Patty her cousin. Holtzmann had gone from being an orphan to having more family than she knew what to do with. That was overwhelming, but awesome…even if it meant she was going to get her guts ripped out now and then.

Erin's texts were pragmatic, telling Holtzmann every single thing they were doing to find her and asking her to send them clues if she could.

She was surprised to see the texts from her new uncles. Ray was sending complaints about politicians' interfering and advice for what she should do while possessed to fight back. He also sent one text ranking the novels of Dewey La Morte by order of quality, best to worst. Holtzmann had no idea why.

Winston sent a text to remind Holtzmann that she owed him a new hearse, so she'd best come home.

Janine's texts…

Holtzmann almost deleted them, unread. Whatever Janine had said, it was all moot now that her mother was high-tailing it back to Pawtucket.

 _Then again…_

 _What the heck, she had to delete all these messages anyway. Her Inbox was too cluttered._

From Janine M: " _We know what happened. We're coming for you. Pls hang on._ "

From Janine M: " _If the person who has my daughter reads this: U touch one hair on her head and I will end you in the worst way you can imagine. Let her go._ "

From Janine M: " _We haven't given up, Jillian. Hang on._ "

 _Jillian._ Holtzmann had noticed that her mom and uncles never called her 'Holtzmann'. She supposed they either weren't used to it, or it was lingering loyalty to her dad.

From Janine M: " _Ray and Winston are here. They'll find you. Promise. They know what to do. Don't ask me to explain why._ "

 _Because they were Ghostbusters_ , which of course Holtzmann hadn't known until yesterday.

From Janine M: " _Seriously, U bastards, touch my daughter and I will show U what's worse than death."_

From Janine M: " _You know we won't give up, baby. I'm sorry to have been gone for so long. You're right—I should have tried to find you sooner. I wanted to. I just didn't know if you wanted me. I was afraid to find out if you didn't. I was at your graduation. We all were. Your uncles would have contacted you a long time ago. My fault they didn't. Asked them to let you live your own life. Was scared…was scared of this happening. Let fear get the better of me sometimes. I made lots of mistakes. Giving you up was the worst. Haven't known you long. My fault, too. But I know you are your daddy's girl. He would have been so proud. He loved U so much. U R brilliant, brave, beautiful girl. Can't believe you're really mine. Never imagined. Never felt I was any of those things. So proud of who you are. So glad you found a family of your own. So grateful you forgave me. Love you, baby. Won't stop until you're home."_

Holtzmann wiped at her eyes impatiently. _Shit, that wasn't fair. She was trying to hold on to a good, self-righteous snit here…_

She collected herself and was just about to go back inside when the passenger door banged open and Janine is suddenly sliding into the seat beside her.

Jillian didn't move or turn down the pulsating music; she just blinked at her with wide, apprehensive eyes, which Janine interpreted as permission to stay.

"I missed my bus," Janine said.

Jillian opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, ending up saying nothing. She stalled by reaching over and turning off the radio.

Finally, she asked: "Are you sure?"

"About the bus? Yes. I'm usually very psychic." Jillian didn't laugh, just continued staring at her with that lingering bit of doubt in her eyes. Janine distracted her by pointing to the phone. "You got my messages?"

Jillian pocked the phone. "I did. All seventeen of them."

Janine knew this wasn't going to be easy, so she got to the point. "I didn't want to leave like that. I'm sorry, Jillian. What happened yesterday on the roof, it just brought back all kinds of memories. Not to excuse what I said. You're right, it wasn't fair to dump all that on you."

Jillian still didn't look at her, staring out the windshield instead. Janine's fingers brushed against the door handle to leave before the younger woman answered. "Personally, I thought the low point of the visit was the highly concentrated nutrient cubes. I mean, I know I'm not one to talk, but that was just nuts..."

Holtzmann ran her hand across her mouth to hide a small smile.

Janine groaned, but a hiccup of laughter still bubbled out.

"You know I can't promise you normal. Or safe." Holtzmann couldn't have promised that without the ghost factor. 'Gene pool of crazy' and all that. "I've been told that I'm a handful."

" _You're_ a handful?" Janine would take that bet. "Your dad put bacteria in my yogurt back before that was in style. Wasn't for my health, he just kept the overflow from his fungus collection in our refrigerator."

Jillian countered with: "I chained my first supervisor to a sewage drain pipe because he wanted to check my math on a nuclear engine."

"Your dad tried to put the whole team on an insect-based diet because it was 'purer nutrition'."

"I tricked Erin into spending three days in a cave in Virginia by programing the PKE meter to react to bats. She was not happy about the rabies shots."

"I told Peter my best friend Carly had been chased by ghosts at a nude beach in Jersey."

Holtzmann grinned, liking where this story was headed. "It wasn't a nude beach?"

Janine smirked. "Private beach adjacent to the former Glass Cathedral of Our Lady of the Blessed Sacraments."

"Aww, he's the reason the Glass Cathedral got curtains?"

"They still make him wash their bus once a month for penance," Janine said proudly

"Nice." Holtzmann scratched her head, still wondering: "Sure you want to stick around?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

The conversation was cut short by a crash as the original Ecto-1 was pitched, spinning side-over-side, through the wall of the warehouse. It tumbled, out-of-control, for several hundred feet-narrowly missing the S.U.V.-before sliding to a stop near the water's edge. Both women let out involuntary cries of surprise.

"You okay?" Holtzmann checked Janine for any signs of injury.

The older woman nodded. "Fine. What the hell was that-?"

A large serpent ghost followed, chased from the warehouse by glowing blasts of proton energy. The specter hovered before the S.U.V., turning its massive head towards the car. Its gaze came to rest on the women seated inside the vehicle.

The ghost bellowed, and the sky quickly filled with more of the Vogaite ghost army. Ray emerged from the warehouse, driving them back with blasts from his proton pack. He made his way to the passenger side of the car.

"Kiddo, I think you ran out of time to try that memory device," he observed.

Hawkins appeared, following Ray out the newly installed hole in the side of the building. He pitched a proton grenade in the direction of the oncoming specters as he moved to the S.U.V. He shooed Holtzmann into the back seat so that he could drive. "I need to get you out of here. Now!"

Janine opened the passenger door. "Ray! Come on!"

Ray pushed the door shut, shaking his head. "They aren't after me, Janine. Let me clear a path. I'll be right behind you."

"Ray—"

He stood firm, squeezing off a few more blasts in the direction of the specters, forcing them away from the road. "Hawkins, get them out of here. Go!"

The agent jammed his foot on the gas pedal, driving through the attacking wraiths while Stantz laid down a barrage of cover fire.

The ghosts quickly abandoned the warehouse and the elder Ghostbuster to pursue the car bearing the Architect.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

They were screwed, Abby decided. She climbed back to her feet in time to see the serpent ghost heading for the door, carrying the trap containing Voga Ra'El. Its ghost buddies made one final push into the firehouse, this time lashing with claws and fangs at the human trio, intent upon their deaths as punishment for the imprisonment of their master.

Patty and Winston were losing ground, out of grenades, the proton packs losing their charge from the prolonged battle. Abby wondered whether the ghosts would get them or if they'd die in the blast when the containment unit went critical.

Then a miracle happened: A familiar dirt bike roared into the garage in a hail of exploding proton grenades and blasts from a proton shotgun. The ghosts scattered, whirling to face the newcomers.

Kevin braked the bike squarely in the path of the serpent ghost that carried the trap. "Sorry-your buddy's going to have to sign out at the desk before he goes."

Then he raised the proton shotgun, smiled, and shot the ugly bastard right between its ghostly eyes. The impact knocked the ghost out the wall; the trap clattered to the floor. Erin jumped from the back of the bike to snatch up the trap before another ghost got to it.

Winston grinned, "Nice shootin', Tex."

Erin warned him. "Yes, very nice, just don't hit the containment unit."

Patty felt compelled to add: "While you're at it, don't hit us, either, Kev."

Now that they'd finally trusted him with a weapon, Kevin was enjoying tearing their spectral attackers a new one. He blasted a few more back out into the street for good measure. "I told you, I was born to be a Ghostbuster."

Abby squeezed his shoulder. "That's still not going to happen, sweetie, but thanks for the rescue."

Erin asked her, "He's in the trap?"

Abby nodded. "I'd love to hear what you're planning to do with him."

Erin truthfully had no idea. "Hopefully lure them away from the containment unit-preferably without dying. You've got to get the power back on before that field collapses. Holtzmann's waiting; Skype her and she'll help talk you though it."

Abby ran to get her laptop. Patty moved to stand by the bike even as Kevin resumed his place in the driver's seat. "And just where are you planning to go?" she wanted to know.

Erin was already jumping back on the motorcycle, clutching the trap to her chest. "Honestly? I don't know! Kevin, let's go before they regroup."

Kevin obliged, gunning the engine. They took off in a squeal of tires and smoke from the burning tires. As Erin hoped, the Vogaites abandoned the firehouse to chase after the trap.

Patty threw up her hands. "That's just great."

GBGBGBGBGBGB

The S.U.V. careened through the Red Hook neighborhood, dodging early morning traffic and their spectral pursuers. The ghosts were doing all they could to impede the vehicle's escape, short of putting their Architect in danger. Trash cans lifted from the sidewalk and propelled themselves against the hood and the roof; one knocked off the driver's side rearview mirror.

"Stay down!" Hawkins ordered his passengers.

Janine was rummaging through the glove box and underneath the seat. "We have nothing in here for fighting ghosts."

"I said it before: No woman should walk around unarmed." Holtzmann pulled a couple of proton grenades from her jacket pocket and passed them forward to Janine. "But, I've only got the two, so we'll have to make them count."

A trash can shattered the passenger window beside Holtzmann; a grotesque, drooling apparition stuck it's repulsive arm through the opening, it's arm groping for the blonde. She reached for the roadside emergency kit in the back of the car and fired up a road flare.

"Look, fire!" She jammed the burning stick into the ghost's fat, snark-covered face. The ghost's gaze was riveted to the pink flame instantly. Holtzmann pitched the flare into the path of a garbage truck. The transfixed ghost followed, finding itself suddenly knocked into the truck's mountain of trash.

Hawkins rolled his eyes. "'Look, fire'?"

"I can't believe that worked," she answered.

Two serpent ghosts put themselves on a collision course with the vehicle. Hawkins did his best to avoid the, but one ghost passed right through the vehicle—dousing the agent and Janine in slime-and grabbed Holtzmann. It dragged her out the broken window. She grabbed for the passenger-side mirror, clinging for dear life while Janine rolled down her own window and grabbed her legs. " _Jillian_!"

Holtz was hanging on to the rear-view mirror with one hand as the ghost pulled her by the other arm. Her arm felt like it was being pulled out of its socket. Since Janine was holding her legs, Holtz risked letting go of the mirror so she could shove a grenade down the ghost's throat. It exploded, but Holtz was suddenly falling, ending up hanging upside down, halfway out the window. She grabbed at the mirror again.

Another ghost pulled Hawkins out the driver's door and pitched him to the sidewalk. Luckily, he landed in a relatively soft pile of trash bags. Janine pitched a grenade before the ghost climbed into the car.

She scooted into the driver's seat, bringing the careening vehicle under control. She risked braking long enough for Jillian to climb back into the car and settle into the front passenger's seat, then floored the gas pedal. She guided the car onto the freeway, hoping there would be fewer projectiles there for the ghosts to use as ammunition.

Holtzmann was grinning from the adrenaline buzz of not dying while hanging off the side of the S.U.V. "That was a lot less fun than it looked. Where'd Hawkins go?"

"We lost him five blocks back," Janine told her. "He's fine. I saw him tuck and roll."

"Hopefully he stuck the landing." Holtzmann's cell phone beeped. She thumbed the 'answer' icon. "Abby?"

"Holtz! Where are you?"

"Uh…Gowanus Expressway, I think. You aren't the only one who got a visit from the ghost goons. Janine, we gotta get off this freeway…we're going the wrong way. The firehouse is behind us," Holtzmann said.

It took a couple more minutes-and playing dodgeball when the specters unloaded most of a truckload of tomatoes onto the S.U.V.- before they came to the next off-ramp.

"I hate to pile on, but I've got a containment unit on battery back-up, and I really need your suggestion for how to keep it from going supercritical," Abby asked.

The S.U.V. passed an industrial supply warehouse. A stack pipes suddenly rolled into their path, Janine screamed. Unable to avoid the pipes, she had to drive through the tumbling metal tubes as they bounced noisily off the hood and roof. One impacted the windshield, leaving a spider-web pattern of cracks on the passenger side.

Holtzmann changed her mind. "Okay, correction, we should have stayed on the expressway…"

Abby was alarmed. "What?! What was that noise?"

"Hang on, Abs." Holtzmann waved for Janine to trade places with her. "This is complete madness…so let the crazy woman drive. Hold this, I don't have a hands-free device with me." She climbed over Janine and took the wheel while her mother slid into the passenger seat. Holtzmann passed her the cell phone. Janine put it on speaker. "Okay, Abby? How bad was Ecto-1 smashed up? Are the reactors still in one piece?"

"The engine is a pancake, but yeah the reactors are fine."

Holtzmann could work with that. "Great. Those are basically a miniature nuclear power supply. If you can patch it into the containment unit, you can run it indefinitely."

Abby followed her thought. "Brilliant! I know what to do…"

Holtzmann turned down an alley when the Vogaite wraiths began tossing pipes like javelins. The projectiles narrowly missed the speeding SUV.

Then, Holtzmann's phone beeped announcement of a second call from Erin's number. "Abby, I've got to jump off now, okay? Got Erin on call waiting…" Janine switched the call over for her. "Hello? Erin? We have a little situation…"

GBGBGBGBGB

Erin was lamenting her own damn luck-she finally had an excuse to be on the back of Kevin's bike, one arm wrapped around the receptionist, and it had to be while a mob of homicidal ghosts were chasing them. Seriously, what else would have been right?

The bike passed beneath a scaffolding where painters were working. Ghosts pitched down heavy buckets of paint onto the bike and its riders. Erin's vision was suddenly bright blue.

It was only moderately better than being coated in slime, but it felt like the paint was working its way into every crevice of her body. She didn't even have a clean hand to wipe paint from her mouth so she could speak. "We have a little situation here, too."

Kevin pitched off his googles, which were now permanently blue. "Tell Holtz I said hello," he said cheerfully.

A ghost roared into his path. Kevin pulled the bike into a wheelie and played chicken with the specter. The front tire sliced the wraith in half as the bike continued unhindered on its way.

Erin flung a grenade at their pursuers. "These guys really want their gas bag boss back. I didn't know how to get them away from the firehouse besides putting Voga Ra'El in a trap-and that was pretty much as far as I got with my plan."

Kevin swerved again when ghosts knocked a street lamp down into his path.

Erin found herself plays tug-o-war with the ghost as they tried to take the trap. The tussle was throwing the bike off balance. "You mind not doing that?" Kevin complained.

Angry at her defiance, the ghost spewed a torrent of slime on her. "Oh, come on!" Erin protested.

"Erin?" Holtzmann prompted.

"Hang on a minute.." Erin put the phone in her mouth so that she could fire the proton shotgun at the ghost that had slimed her.

Holtzmann informed her: "Erin, you just texted me a picture of your incisors. You need to see your dentist, looks like you've got some tartar build up…"

The engineer had her own problems-the ghosts had picked up a trash truck and hurl it at the SUV, right into its path. She had to drive up onto a sidewalk and straight through a fitness club to avoid it. The people inside the club saw the vehicle coming and dove out of the way.

Holtzmann tsked at the posters in the gym. "Forty-five dollars a month? I pay ten at my club. No wonder this place is empty…"

"Holtz! Where are you now?" Erin asked.

"On my way back to the firehouse. Just got to ditch the cast of creepies. Erin, I wanted to tell you about that fifth device they want me to build. I think it's-"

A ghost reached into the car and snatched her phone. It flew away, gleefully pushing buttons on the device. Holtzmann shouted after it, "Hey! Damn it! Do not use all my data minutes, you little booger!"

Janine pounded on her shoulder: "Look out!"

The S.U.V. took a corner nearly on two wheels, onto a side street where Raina Chaix and another throng of ghosts waited. Voga Ra'El's minion stood stoically in the middle of the street, her icy blue eyes seeking out the vehicle driver's.

Holtzmann heard the woman's voice inside her mind: _Calmanani._

A rapid play of images accompanied the disembodied voice-other planets, other universes, other dimensions…all that Holtzmann imagined was Voga Ra'El's prison in the tenth dimension. She felt the presence of the ancient warrior trying to touch her mind from very far away, not like the last time…

…the last time…

 _She remembered the numeric language overpowering her consciousness, overloading her mind until her hands began to move…scribbling equations so quickly and furiously that her wrists began to ache. Images of other dimensions translated themselves into formulas…the equations for breaking time and space and bending it to Voga Ra'El's will. Equations formed new images in her mind-machines. She knew how to make the machines that would follow the equations to break the dimensional barriers…_

… _to pass through those barriers. There would be no corner of this universe, no dimension or point in time, she would not be able to touch with these machines. If she had an eternity, it would not be long enough to explore…_

Her foot eased off the accelerator. Raina Chaix extended a hand toward the approaching vehicle, not to attack but to beckon.

 _Your work is not done, Architect._

"Jillian?!" Janine felt the car slowing down as it approached the psychotic Chaix and her army.

 _Voga Ra'El showed her the fifth device…the rest of the plan…more myriad numbers flowing through her mind to her hands as they scrambled to record the equations, guiding her as she began construction under Raina Chaix's watchful eye. He would use the fifth device to return to his time among the Toltecs. His first act would be the execution of his enemies before they had the chance to become his enemies. With the device, any threat to his reign could be predicted and eliminated at his leisure because he would have time at his fingertips. Voga Ra'El would build his Prime Earth where he could rule like a true god with the fifth device…_

… _she saw the destruction of the parallel timelines that branched from his defeat. In the wink of an eye, those parallel dimensions merged together and ceased to exist…this earth, this dimension ceasing to exist._

 _Voga Ra'El's presence had offered comfort-the Architect would survive, serve him on the Prime Earth, granted life as a reward for her singular mind, the only one who had been able to set him free from his prison._

… _she had hesitated, the tiny corner of her mind that still retained self-awareness had recoiled._

 _Voga Ra'El would allow no dissention. It had been Raina Chaix's turn to offer consolation: If Holtzmann obeyed, she would be gifted with death, the only true escape from the madness of his eternal presence in her mind. Better that the gift of death, she could have the peace of never existing in the first place. Both of them could…_

 _Holtzmann had seen the danger then, the flaw in Voga Ra'El's grand plans…_

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push Raina Chaix's voice out of her mind.

"Jillian!" Janine grabbed the wheel. "What's wrong-?"

Holtzmann's eyes snapped open, her gaze locking with Raina Chaix's.

Her foot crushed the accelerator, aiming the car directly at the woman.

Raina frowned at the loss of contact with the Architect's mind. She was not powerful enough to reassert control over the woman without Voga Ra'El's help. She looked to the ghosts. "Enough of this game. Kill both of them. Voga Ra'El will restore the Architect when we free him."

The ghosts rushed to meet the oncoming vehicle, but Raina Chaix stood fast.

Holtzmann gripped the steering wheel so tightly it hurt. "You do not want to play chicken with me, bitch."

Janine watched nervously. Raina Chaix wasn't moving, and Jillian wasn't backing down. She wasn't going to allow this. Chaix might be a cast iron witch, but Jillian wasn't a killer. "Jillian-you can't- _Jillian!_ "

Holtzmann glanced sidelong at Janine, and a familiar smirk tugged at her mouth. "Aww right…"

She jerked the wheel hard, turning to drive through the exit of a parking garage. The S.U.V. demolished the barricade arm and several cars had to swerve out of her path. She dodges the other cars-the ones parked and the ones attempting in her path; the ghost pursuers splattered through the vehicles, sliming the cars and setting off alarms in the parked cars.

They knocked a few cars into Holtzmann's path. If she were fleeing for her life from a psychotic Toltec army, Holtzmann would have been having the time of her life. "I always wanted to join a destruction derby. Of course, I'm going to lose my license for sure this time…"

Raina vaulted onto the roof of the parking garage, and then ran across to the other side of the building. She jumped back down to the street so that she was waiting when the S.U.V. burst through the garage entrance.

Janine groaned. _This woman was relentless._ "Now what's she doing?"

Raina lifted her arms and focused her energy on the oncoming car.

Cracks begin to form in the windshield of the S.U.V., beginning at the spot that was already damaged. Janine saw the glass start to bend as if it were being pressed by an unseen hand.

She threw herself in front of her daughter. "Jillian!"

The windshield exploded inward, spraying shards of glass so thin and razor sharp that Janine didn't even feel it with the pieces embedded in her back and pierced her throat. She felt as if someone had slapped her on the back…except for the crimson spray of blood that dotted the seat.

Holtzmann felt drops of blood on her face, saw it pooling on Janine's throat. Her eyes, glazed with shock, met Jillian's. Holtzmann heard herself scream, "Mom!"

Janine slumped; Holtzmann nearly lost control of the car trying to catch her. She eased the older woman down so her head was across Holtzmann's lap. She steered with one hand; with the other, she pulled the scarf off her head and packed it against the wound in Janine's neck.

She held the bandage there, as gently but firmly as she could. She didn't think the glass had hit her artery, but the wound was still bad. Very, very bad. "Mom, hang on."

Janine smiled weakly but happily. _Jillian had called her 'mom'_.

 _Calmanani,_ Raina's voice echoed in Holtzmann's mind.

Furious, Holtzmann let the S.U.V. plow right into Raina, any spark of sympathy for the woman gone. It wasn't like she could kill the bitch, but she doesn't mind hurting Chaix right then. She didn't look back, but she hoped it fucking hurt even if it was only a temporary death.

Voga Ra'El wasn't going to get off so easy.

Janine's eyes had slipped shut. Holtzmann could feel a pulse with her fingertips, but it was weak. Her mind raced frantically for options. Janine was going to bleed out quickly. Holtzmann didn't know if a hospital could save her. She had to save her. She wasn't losing another parent. She wasn't losing anyone else close to her.

Holtzmann felt for the phone in Janine's purse and dialed.

Erin answered. "Janine?"

"It's Holtz. Erin, where are you now?"

"Heading for the Jersey turnpike, I think. What's happened?" Erin heard the tension in Holtzmann's voice. The tone instantly made Erin tense.

"I'm going back to Ray's warehouse. Meet me there," Holtzmann ordered.

"What? Holtz, that's not a good idea. If Voga Ra'El gets you, we w-"

" _Damn it, Erin, I know_! Please. The warehouse. Quick!"

Erin relented. Something was very wrong, but Holtzmann must know what she was doing. "Okay, okay."

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Holtzmann beat the ghosts back to the old warehouse, but her spectral pursuers wouldn't be far behind, she knew. She was counting on it.

Hawkins had found his way back, looking hacked off but none the worse for wear after being pulled from his car. At the sight of the battered S.U.V. rolling up, his mouth fell open, no doubt imagining the paperwork involved in requisitioning a new ride and mentally rehearsing the ass-chewing he was going to give the blonde Ghostbuster for wrecking the vehicle. Holtzmann couldn't have cared less at the moment.

"My car-" He started before she'd brought the S.U.V. to a halt. Hawkins quickly fell silent when he got a good look at her. Holtzmann was covered with blood, although from his present angle Hawkins couldn't see any sign of an injury. She was deathly pale, and the look in her eyes sent a surge of dread to the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, can't buy you another one." She jerked the door open so hard that the agent had to jump back to avoid being smacked. "Is Erin here yet?"

"Gilbert? No. What-"

Holtzmann turned her back, struggling to lift something out of the vehicle. Hawkins moved to help…and quickly discovered the reason for her frantic state. She was trying to move a bloody, battered Janine Melnitz from the passenger seat. "Oh my god..." Hawkins gently pushed past her. "Holtzmann, let me take her." She didn't appear to hear him, so he repeated: "Holtz? Let me help."

She gave him a look of silent warning that he'd damned well better be careful, but she stepped aside.

"She needs a hospital." Hawkins could see that with a single glance. What had Holtzmann been thinking, bringing her back here instead?

Holtzmann didn't dignify that with an answer. It was too late for that, and the agent had to know that as well as she did. "Take her upstairs. I'll be right there."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you. Did you hear what I said? Take her upstairs!" Holtzmann snapped.

Ray appeared in the open garage door, alerted by the rattle of the car's battered engine and the shouting. His eyes widened at the sight of the blood on Holtzmann, having a horrified flashback to the rooftop-had that only been a few hours ago?-until he saw the unconscious bundle in Hawkins' arms.

"Janine! God, what happened?" He rushed to help Hawkins carry her into the warehouse. The color drained from Ray's face. His horrified expression mirrored Holtzmann's devastated look. "Jillian?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. Her attention was on the street as if she was waiting for something. "I'll take care of it," she promised quietly.

"You have a first aid kit?" Hawkins asked Stantz.

"Inside. Upstairs." Ray found a clean towel and laid it over the bloodied scarf on Janine's neck. They were way past first aid kit time, he knew. Whatever Jillian was planning, Ray had no doubt she knew what she was doing…he just hoped that, whatever it was, she did it quickly.

He also had no doubt they wouldn't like it, whatever it was.

Holtzmann nearly shouted for joy at the sound of a familiar dirt bike engine. Ecto-2 roared around the corner, Erin clinging to Kevin for dear life as he pushed the machine as fast as it could go. It skidded to a stop a couple feet from Holtzmann.

"What the hell took so long?" she barked at them. "Where's the trap?"

Kevin recoiled a bit from the harsh greeting. Erin was clutching the trap against her chest. "There are about a hundred ghosts following us. This wasn't a good idea-"

Impatiently, Holtzmann tried to grab the trap from Erin's arms. "I don't have time for this-"

"No!" Erin held the box away from her, jumping off the bike to put poor Kevin between her and the engineer. "Tell me what's going on? Why did you want Voga Ra'El here? This is the last place he should be…Holtzmann! Is that blood-? Are you hurt?"

Holtzmann didn't disagree. The demon ghost might be locked inside the trap, but she could already feel his consciousness reaching out, trying to connect to hers. She heard the faint whisper of the numeric language in her mind. The fact that the touch of his consciousness was warm and welcoming, like he was welcoming home a lost child, made it all the more repulsive.

She shut him out of her mind, concentrating all her energy on what she had to do. She couldn't waste time…Janine couldn't afford for her to waste time.

"Erin! Give me the trap!"

She snatched for it again, but Erin still didn't let go. "Not until you tell me what you're going to do?"

Holtzmann had no intention of telling any of them. They would stop her…they'd be right to stop her. "Erin. Please."

The quiet plea nearly broke Erin's resolve. The women had a stare down; Erin won out, still refusing to relinquish the ghost without an explanation. Holtzmann stepped back and waved her towards the warehouse.

Erin followed Holtzmann up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. She would have liked to ask questions about the place, the vehicle that so closely resembled Ecto-1, the equations scribbled on the walls, but the urgency in Holtzmann's face and movements told Erin there wasn't time.

Then Holtzmann pushed open the bedroom door, and Erin suddenly understood. Ray and Hawkins were bent over one of the bunks, frantically rendering aid to Janine. The woman was deathly grey, drenched in blood on her throat and back…it was painfully clear to all of them that there was nothing to be done.

"Oh my god. Holtz, what can I do?" Erin set the trap on a small dresser, moving to stand behind Holtzmann as she knelt beside the bunk.

Holtzmann didn't want sympathy right then. What she wanted was the small box that Erin had momentarily forgotten. She wrapped her hands around Janine's ice cold fingers. "Hawkins, we're going to have about a hundred ghosts on our doorstep in a couple of minutes. See if you can get us some help here," she asked the agents.

Hawkins nodded. "I'll call for an ambulance," he insisted.

Ray was changing the bandage on Janine's throat, looking as lost and helpless as Holtzmann was feeling. She felt a rush of affection for the man.

"Uncle Ray? Let me take a look. Can you find some water and towels, please?" Holtzmann asked gently.

"Sure." The useless effort still felt like doing something. Ray didn't know how else to help Janine. He saw it in Jillian's eyes-she was trying to get rid of him. _If there was ever a time for a Hail Mary play, this is it, Kiddo, just don't do something so stupid that we can't fix it,_ he silently beseeched his goddaughter _._

She must have read his mind, because she offered the faintest smile before he left the room.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?" He paused in the doorway.

"You should tell her how you feel, Uncle Ray. I'm just saying." Holtzmann didn't look back. She wasn't trying to embarrass the elder Ghostbuster. He was a nice guy. Her mother deserved a nice guy. Thirty years was too long to be alone.

The sound of a proton blast from the vicinity of the parking lot heralded the arrival of Voga Ra'El's army. Ray forgot the pointless request for water and ran downstairs to help Hawkins and Kevin against the intruders. Erin and Holtzmann both glanced in the direction of the sound. "Shit," Holtzmann cursed.

Erin didn't understand why Holtzmann hadn't gone straight to the hospital? _Because she'd known it was too late?_ She guessed Holtz must be in shock. It didn't seem fair to Erin, either. Her friend had more than her fair share of grief for one lifetime. "Tell me how I can help," Erin said.

She was going into her clinical, detached manner the way she always did when things got too emotional, Holtzmann noticed. _Some people dealt with crises by going into robot mode, some people dealt by blowing things up. To each their own…_

"I'm out of bandages. There's another first aid kit in the bathroom across the hall. Find it. Hurry."

Erin nodded. "Sure." She ran for the bathroom…

…whether she thought Holtzmann couldn't do anything if she were right across the hall or had forgotten about the ghost in the trap, Erin had done exactly what Holtzmann wanted.

"Erin?"

Erin paused in the bathroom doorway. "Yeah? You need something else-?"

Holtzmann carefully placed Janine's hand back on the bunk, moving to stand in the bedroom doorway. "Erin…I'm sorry."

The red-head frowned. _What on earth was Holtzmann apologizing for? For bad judgement when her mother was hurt? That just made her human. Did she think Erin was angry with her?_ "For what?"

"I give you a hard time. I prank you a lot. It's just what I do-you know, with friends," Holtzmann got the words out without her usual noises of discomfort that accompanied her emotional moments.

Erin grinned.

Then, Holtzmann's emotional moment was over. Her eyes glinted the same mischief that warned Erin she'd been tricked. "But mostly, I'm sorry about this…"

Holtzmann slammed the bedroom door shut and locked Erin out. Erin could have blasted it open with the proton shotgun if it wouldn't have meant possibly vaporizing Holtzmann and Janine in the process. She had to settle for trying to kick the door open. That didn't work as well as it did in the movies; the door didn't budge, but Erin was sure she'd just broken her foot. " _Holtz_! What do you think you're doing?!"

Holtzmann ignored her. She moved to stare out the bedroom window. She could see the streaks of ectoplasm from rushing ghosts. They were circling the building, but not attacking yet. They were waiting.

Waiting for what?

Holtzmann looked for a sign of Raina Chaix. _Where are you, you bitch?_

The hooded figure appeared on the street below, staring back at Holtzmann. _Calmanani._

Erin heard the clatter of the ghost trap being opened. _Holy shit…was Holtz letting out Voga Ra'El_? "Holtz, don't-! Ray! Hawkins! I need you up here!"

Holtzmann stared up as the ectoplasmic mist that was Voga Ra'El rose from the trap-only to be tangled in the neutrino net. The specter howled, and the ghosts outside keened in answer. Voga telegraphed his confusion to Holtzmann's mind.

 _No need for this,_ the specter said. _I will never hurt you, my Architect._

Holtzmann clenched her fists. "I'm not worried about me."

The floating vapor waited.

She pointed to Janine. "Save her, leave my family alone…" She nodded to the door, indicating the rest of the Ghostbusters "…and I'll build whatever the hell you want."

The offer pleased Voga Ra'El. Holtzmann felt it. Why shouldn't he be happy? Allowing a few humans some few extra hours before he unleashed the Apocalypse was of no consequence to his plans.

"Holtz!" Erin pounded on the bedroom door.

Voga Ra'El said simply: _Agreed_.

On the bunk behind her, Janine made a gurgling noise. Holtzmann spun, peeling the bandages from her neck to see the lacerations slowly healing. "Mom?" she called softly.

Janine squinted blearily at her. She smiled before drifting back into unconsciousness.

 _Calmanani,_ Voga Ra'El summoned. The word was accompanied by the image of what Voga Ra'El's minions would do if she failed to keep her word.

" _Holtz_!"

Erin threw herself against the door with all her might, once, twice, and, on the third try, the bedroom door banged open. Erin rushed into the room to find an empty trap, a healed Janine beginning to stir on the bunk…

…and no sign of Voga Ra'el or Holtzmann.


	6. The Dead Zone

_AN: Our ride is slowly coming to an end. I sincerely hope someone out there is enjoying this story. I appreciate all of you for reading anyway. Once again, I don't own the characters (see chapter 1 for disclaimers). Warning as usual for Ghostbuster-style action and some language._

 **6**

 _ **The Dead Zone**_

"Why would she do that?!"

Janine woke to her now-familiar nightmare: Her daughter was missing, in the hands of a Toltec demon, only this time she was the reason. The rescue and the past twenty-four hours might have been nothing but a dream-if the demolished vehicles strewn outside the warehouse, the walls adorned with Jillian's scribbled numbers, and the nightmarish splatters of blood on the bed Janine had abandoned didn't prove it had all happened.

Erin, Janine, Ray, and Hawkins were now in the warehouse's kitchen, gathered at the table, trying to regroup. Kevin busied himself seeing what he could do to get the antique Ecto-1 back on its wheels. Abby had called to tell them that she had stabilized the containment unit with the portable reactors from the new Ecto-1. Erin had brought her up to speed on their situation, and Abby was headed to the warehouse with Patty and Winston.

The Vogaite specters had disappeared as abruptly as Voga Ra'El. Erin figured they had Holtzmann to thank for that as well.

Ray had given Janine one of his old plaid shirts to change. He didn't waste his time trying to get Janine to a doctor. They'd all seen how complete Voga Ra'El's healing power was, and she wouldn't have gone anyway. He brought her a glass of water and kept refilling it while they talked.

The fifth time he topped off her glass, she caught him looking at her neck where the gash had been. "Ray, I'm fine," she said.

"Janine—you were dying. She didn't know what else to do," Erin told her. Everyone understood why Holtzmann had saved Janine, but they were still left with a problem-the whole world was going to have a problem if she built the fifth device for Voga Ra'El.

Janine simply vented her fear on the red-haired woman. "Voga Ra'El has my daughter again! I don't care what happens to me, you should have stopped her! Does she think I want to be responsible for the end of the world?!"

"I tried!"

"Janine, this isn't helping. She knows we can stop Voga Ra'El, but not if we're all dead! She didn't just save you, she bought all of us time." Ray reached to take Janine's hand, trying to calm her. "We'll find Jillian. As for our Toltec buddy-we stopped him before, we can stop him again."

Erin chewed her fingernail nervously. "I'm not so sure."

He was surprised at her answer. "What?"

She had been considering this since the ghost attack on the firehouse. "We contained him before, and his little minions almost killed all of us to rescue him. If we put him back into the containment unit, they'll come after him again…this isn't going to stop unless we send him back into the tenth dimension and make sure he can't crossover again."

Ray wouldn't mind killing the gaseous bastard one bit, before Voga Ra'El permanently killed one of his family. "I'd love to hear how you plan to do that."

"If that machine Holtz built can bring him here, it can send him back," Erin figured.

Janine would have been happy to personally escort Voga Ra'El back through the barrier. Even when Jillian had been rescued, he and that Raina witch had still been able to mess with her daughter's mind. Janine had seen it while they were in the S.U.V.-those few seconds when Jillian had almost crashed the car because they had found their way into her mind.

Then she recalled: "Jillian said something in the car-when that Raina bitch was messing with her mind. She said 'paradox'."

Erin's brow furrowed. "Paradox?"

"Does that mean something?" Janine asked.

Erin got up from the table and walked over to the wall where Holtzmann had recopied the equations from the apartment. She began to study the numbers, searching for something that would lead her friend to the bizarre comment.

The rest of the group followed her. Ray joined Erin in examining the equations from this new perspective. "Jillian said the fifth device that Voga Ra'El wanted was meant to let him enter whatever dimension he wanted at any point in its timeline that he wanted."

Erin nodded. "Let's assume he wants to go back on this timeline to the point where he was defeated and sent into exile." It was a place to start, anyway. "He'd have to either prevent his own defeat-"

Ray finished, "-which would create a time paradox, since his ability to travel back to prevent his defeat depends on his being sent into the tenth dimension to tell Jillian how to build the machine. The paradox would destabilize this timeline."

Janine just wanted to be sure she was following their reasoning. "By destabilize you mean-?"

"Apocalypse," Ray was blunt.

Erin continued, "Or he goes back in time after the point of his exile and defeats his enemies."

"Which alters our timeline, and we're back to Apocalypse," Ray said.

Erin moved along the wall. "Either way, Voga Ra'El goes back in a vaporous state. He couldn't be thinking of possessing his own body, or else-"

Hawkins guessed, "Paradox?"

"Sort of. Either it stops with Voga Ra'El erasing himself or the paradox again destabilizes the whole timeline. Doesn't matter, as soon as he crosses over, as soon as the portal on that machine closes, our timeline ceases to exist one way or the other. We may never be born, which means no Holtz to build his machine and set him free…" Erin was mostly thinking out loud.

Hawkins, Janine, and Ray chorused: "Paradox."

Hawkins didn't understand the endless equations or string theory, but he got the gist of their warning. "Basically, the apocalypse isn't coming from the machines, it's going to be spawned by the paradox he creates trying to change his own history."

Erin had made her way to the section of numbers that sketched details of the fifth device. "Wait, what's all this?"

Ray wasn't sure what she was asking. "Jillian was copying the equations from the photos you sent."

Hawkins turned his back to the wall. "I officially didn't see this or hear that."

Erin shook her head. "No, no, I've been staring at these numbers for two days. Something's off here. Right here."

Janine had spotted something as well. "Ray…" Something was lying on the floor at the base of the wall, not far from where Erin had stopped. Janine picked up the object and held it up for Ray to see.

"What's that?" It looked to Erin like a mini version of Abby's 'mind-reading' helmet.

"My Spectral Possession Recall Device. We didn't get a chance to try it with Jillian. Not where we left it."

Janine was glad—the idea of Jillian playing with mind-alerting gadgets was unsettling. _But if Jillian moved it-_ "You think Jillian used it?"

"Not possible. I didn't have a chance to go over the device with her. She wouldn't know how to work it," he said.

Well, that was the most ridiculous argument Janine had heard. "Ray, she reverse engineered an interdimensional portal generator by watching videos on YouTube. I think she can find the 'on' button." She tossed the device to him.

Ray made a face at her. "In any case, she didn't have time. Hawkins and I carried you upstairs, then Erin and Kevin showed up. Jillian couldn't have been alone more than five or six minutes."

Erin wasn't buying that argument either. "How long would it take for her to do something with this device? Assuming she found the 'on' button?"

"That depends on what she wanted to do with it."

Erin turned back to the equations, now comparing them to cell phone pictures that Holtzmann had printed out, searching for discrepancies…and finding some. "Wait! Ray, look here!" She pointed to a string of numbers right above the spot where Janine had found the memory device. "These numbers don't match the original equations. Holtz changed something. Right here where Janine found your memory do-dad."

Ray looks at the pictures and compared them to what Jillian had written on the wall.

There was the sound of a car pulling up to the warehouse and doors slamming. Seconds later, Winston, Abby and Patty walked in, Abby calling: "Erin?"

Erin waved, but didn't turn from the equations. "In here."

"The containment unit is fine. It's stable for now. We made Rorke baby-sit it," Abby said. She rounded the corner from the kitchen into the living area and saw what was distracting the group.

Patty grumbled, "Oh good. Once again, Holtz takes off and leaves us with a wall of math."

Ray waved for Abby. "This is the section on the schematics of the fifth device. Abby, look at this. You've done some engineering, right?"

Abby didn't want to oversell her skills in that area. "I'm nowhere in Holtz's league."

Erin explained to her, "Holtz changed the schematics and she deliberately left the memory device here so we'd see it. Whatever she changed, it's got to be some kind of message for us."

Abby scratched her head. She supposed she was more familiar with Holtzmann's methods of engineering than the rest of them, so she'd take a shot at it. "Oh boy-okay…" She pointed to one span of numbers. "…this part here has nothing to do with schematics. Not exactly. This relates more to my field, to astrophysics…this is what you'd find if someone was programming a computer to navigate in outer space. I think-" Abby didn't get to stretch her mental muscles on an astrophysics riddle as often as she did a supernatural dilemma. She hoped she was misinterpreting what her friend had done. "I think-if Holtz programs that machine with these parameters, it's going to command the machine to lock into a dimension that's devoid of life. A dead zone. A universe that can't sustain life in any form."

"One of those micro-rips back at Spook Central crushed Voga Ra'El's human followers when they fell inside. Remember, Janine?" Erin asked.

Janine cringed. "Vividly."

Abby had been outside, she hadn't seen that part but it sounded horrible. "Good example of a dead zone. She could send Voga Ra'El to a dimension where gravity crushes him, into a massive black hole, a supernova…well, you get the idea. The machine would probably generate micro-rips like the ones we saw until it found the dimension with the conditions Holtz asked for."

"So, Holtz is going to program a booby trap into her own machine? So she can kill Voga Ra'El? And she used that memory do-hickey to hide her plan inside her own subconscious so Voga Ra'El wouldn't know? God willing?" Patty was impressed-but she was still going to give that girl an ass-chewing when they found her. She supposed Holtzmann didn't have too much time to plan, but if she could draw all these numbers, she could have at least sent them a text to fill them in on this suicidal plan of hers.

Janine had to sit down again. "But, if Voga Ra'El takes Jillian with him through the portal into a dead zone, she'll die, too."

Erin hated to be the one to say it, but… "I think Holtz knows that."

Abby sat down beside Janine on the couch. "We've got to find her before she finishes that device and opens the portal."

Hawkins figured it was time to jump back into the conversation. He stepped back over to the group. "The Vogaites stole the pieces of the other machine and the Eye. Holtzmann could reassemble them anywhere in the world."

Ray disagreed. "That's not exactly true."

Winston had been silent up until this point, but he hated it when Ray was cagey. "Which part?"

Ray had to backtrack for the younger Ghostbusters. "We call that old apartment building 'Spook Central' because it was specifically designed to attract and amplify supernatural activity along the ley lines."

Architecture and ley lines. Patty was pleased they shifted to subjects in her wheelhouse. "Like the Mercado?"

"Yep. I'm guessing that's the same reason Voga Ra'El's playmates chose it as the spot to open the nexus to the tenth dimension. The Eye of Tezcatlipoca probably draws power from the ley lines, too," Ray said. "If that's the case, they'll want another building that can amplify the power of the ley lines."

Patty had seen a laptop on the kitchen table. She went to the computer and started searching the internet. "The architect of your 'spook central' was Ivo Shandor…he only designed that one building, but get this: His grandson, Eruch Shandor, is some kind of real estate mogul. It looks he's got buildings all over the country. Look here-he designed the Points Resort in Key West, the Nexus Hotel in Boston, the Altamont Tower in Las Vegas…and the Hidalgo and the Mercado."

Erin moved to read over Patty's shoulder. "If Voga Ra'El knows we're onto the Hidalgo and the tower on 77th, he'll probably head to one of those other sites."

Hawkins was already pulling out his phone. "I'll have the local police check those buildings for activity."

Abby glared at him. "No offense, Hawkins, but I think we'd rather do this without Homeland Security's help this time. I don't trust you guys. Rorke shot Holtz." The look in her eyes warned that Abby didn't plan on letting that go. Ever.

Hawkins didn't blame her, he planned to line out his partner privately for that dipshit stunt as soon as he got the chance and hope he could keep the Ghostbusters from breaking ties with the agency after this business with Voga Ra'El was over-but in the meantime, these ladies had to understand he had a job to do.

Patty took pity on Hawkins. He had made a good point. Besides, they needed to stay on his good side. He was going to have to help them straighten out the mess Winston and Janine had created revealing the existence of the original team. "Me, either. But you're okay, Hawkins."

Hawkins pointed out to Abby, "How do you plan to get to Boston or Key West or Las Vegas in time to stop Holtzmann without our help? Did Holtzmann build you a transporter that I don't know about?"

"That's a ' _Star Trek'_ thing, right?" Erin asked. She also defended him. "Guys, he's right. Hawkins, make your call, but nobody moves on Voga Ra'El without us. Got it?"

It was a step in the right direction. Hawkins stepped outside to set the search in motion…and to call in a favor to have a jet on stand-by.

Patty studied the map. Rationally, she knew they had to wait for the police. They couldn't go search three different cities themselves. "So, what—do we wait for a call, or do we split up and cover each of these sites or pick one and hope the hell we guess right? It's going to take time to get across the country, and we don't have much time to waste."

Janine had crept up behind her so quietly that when she spoke, Patty jumped. "Vegas."

"What?" Erin asked.

Janine said it again. "They're going to Las Vegas. The Altamont."

Abby had to know: "You're basing that on what?"

"On nothing. It's a hunch. If I were Voga Ra'El and I was trying to buy time for Jillian to finish that device, I'd take her as far away from us as possible," Janine explained. It was more than that-she just _knew_. Maybe it was an after-effect of the ghost healing her, but she almost felt the damn specter like a nagging sensation in the back of her mind.

Erin wasn't going to question Janine's instincts about her daughter. She shouted to the government agent in the doorway. "Hawkins—have the security guards at the Altamont check their roof."

Patty sure hated to be the one to point out complications, but she had one more question. "And what are we going to do when we find Holtz? If Voga Ra'El decides he's tired of being a ball of gas and needs a host, you got any idea for pulling a Toltec ghost out of our baby girl?"

Abby squirmed like something had just crawled up her leg. All eyes turned to her; she avoided their gazes. "What? Abby, if you have an idea, spill it," Erin pressed.

She balked, "It's dangerous."

"As dangerous as an interdimensional cross-rip spawned by a massive time paradox?" Winston pointed out.

"All right…hang on." She hurried to retrieve the now-empty ghost trap that had contained Voga Ra'El. "The neutrino net in this trap could potentially be designed to grab on to a specter but allow a living organism to pass through."

Janine shook her head vehemently, and Winston argued, "If Jillian passes through a net of proton streams, she's going to be deep-fried."

Fascinated with the theory, Ray took the trap from Abby and started poking around the device. "No, Abby's on to something here. If you adjust the density of the beams…" He paused just long enough to grab some of his tools from the work bench before settling at the table for serious tinkering. "…made a few adjustments to the power flow…she'd get burned, but probably no worse than a bad day at the beach."

Janine yanked the tool out of Ray's hand. "You are not shooting my daughter with proton streams."

"Ray, I'm with Janine." Winston knew it was useless trying to stop Ray once he got an idea in his head. "How would you test it? You can't use Jillian for a guinea pig."

In answer, Ray fired up the trap and shoves his arm into the net. Five sets of hands converged, trying to yank him away from the beams.

" _Ray_!" Janine grabbed his arm, expecting to see burned and blistered flesh (or a bloodied stump), but he was right. It looked like a nasty sunburn, but he was otherwise fine.

"You don't think I'd do anything to put my goddaughter in danger?" Ray asked her.

Erin was thrilled. "Okay, this could work. Abby and Ray, fine tune that net. Hawkins-?"

Hawkins was putting away his cell phone. "Bingo!"

"They found Holtz?" Abby didn't look up from her work.

"Security at the Altamont reports a device like Holtzmann's being assembled-by ghosts-on the roof. They're under orders not to approach but to very quietly evacuate the hotel," he said.

Patty clapped Janine on the shoulder. "That was a helluva hunch."

"Hawkins, how fast can you get us to Las Vegas?" Erin wanted to know.

"I knew you'd ask. I have a plane on stand-by."

The woman nodded, but said nothing. She moved back to stare at the schematics on the wall.

"Let's go get our girl. We can finish this on the way." Ray grabbed a duffel bag from the closet, and together he and Abby started packing up his tools and the trap. "Janine, you coming?"

She glanced back at him. "Can you build one of these?"

He blinked. "Maybe. Why?"

She pointed to the modified trap. "And I need a remote control for that. It has to operate without a foot trigger. I think I have a plan."

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At first, the Las Vegas tourists thought the strange events were part of the shows that the hotels of the Strip put on to draw people into their casinos—like the dancing waters at the Bellagio or the fake volcano at the Mirage or the pirate ship battles at TI.

So, when the ghosts suddenly started flying along the Strip, people pulled out their cell phones and snapped photos, took selfies with the specters in the background, and tried to figure out which of the casinos was putting on the show. Drivers stuck in the ever-impacted traffic along the main drag craned to see the ghosts from their windows and with their mirrors. Most of the folks assumed the show was ghost-themed because Halloween was only a few days away.

Wanda Jenkins from Massapequa had hopped a plane to Vegas with her boyfriend the day she'd turned twenty-one. She'd spent her birthday wandering from casino to casino along the Strip, attempting the impossible task of seeing everything in one day. Her boyfriend, Declan, was tagging along, complaining about wanting to actually try some of the casino games but humoring her in hopes that there still might be sex in his future that night.

"OMG! Declan, are you seeing this?" Wanda had her cell phone out, live streaming the ghost show on her Facebook page.

Declan was sitting on a bench in front of the Bellagio, wondering how people got so worked up over these crappy street shows. "It's so fake—they use laser projectors. Look, I'll show you."

He stood on the bench and waited until one of the fake ghosts swung in his direction. Declan held out his hand for the laser ghost to pass through.

His hand came away covered in slime and the skin of his arm broke out in goosebumps at the sickening cold sensation when the "projection" touched him. "Agh! Nasty!" he cursed. _How did they do the slime trick?_ He wondered. The worse part was Wanda laughing as he frantically tried to wipe the sludge onto the bench, his shirt, and his jeans.

He didn't see the second ghost glide up behind him until the specter lifted him from his feet and dropped him into the lake in front of the Bellagio. He screamed his indignation.

Wanda got the whole thing on live stream, laughing so hard she was afraid she might accidentally pee a little. "So fake…" she called to him.

He made a rude gesture at the brunette, effectively taking sex off the table for the night. "Shut up! Help me out—"

"Don't tell me to shut up, you jerk! Get yourself out." Wanda made rude gesture in return. "And sleep in the lobby tonight." She turned her camera to address her Facebook friends. "You guys were so right about him-"

Declan's foul mood hit full on snit when the lake's fountain jets activated and water started spraying, hitting him from multiple directions. Security guards, drawn by the chatter of the crowd, and spotted the man in the lake. They helpfully shouted for him to "get out, the fountains were on" while he treaded water and tried to figure out which direction to swim amidst the powerful spray. Someone finally had the sense to yell for the fountains to be shut down.

Then the excited chatter turned to cries of alarm, then screams. Declan saw that the crowd was no longer paying attention to him. They were pointing to the water. Some were running away.

He noticed the water felt strange and hesitantly looked down.

He was swimming in what he could swear was blood-if he didn't know this Vegas stuff was fake, fake, and fake. The red liquid shooting from the water cannons couldn't be blood. It was red dye. This was a really tacky Halloween stunt.

Just to be safe, he swam as fast as he could towards the security guards and tearfully begged them to get him out of the lake of not-blood.

One of the men in the crowd was watching the on-line local news feed about the show going on all around him. He elbowed his wife. "Something's up. I heard they're evacuating the Altamont."

That escalated the tension in the crowd around him. Many gazed from the lake of blood to the hotel with the distinct purple glass that towered over the other buildings on the Strip. Sure enough, the wraiths that dogged Las Vegas Boulevard seemed to be originated from the strange blue glowing light radiating from the roof of the skyscraper.

And then the ghosts suddenly multiplied exponentially, descending upon the pedestrians and vehicles. They doused the sidewalks with green slime that made it nearly impossible for people to run away without slipping. Cars start having accidents when the frightened drivers could no longer see out slime-soaked windshields.

Above it all, a black helicopter circled.

GBGBGBGBGBG

The Ghostbusters had crossed the country in record time aboard what Hawkins called "A jet, that's all you need to know". The plane landed at Edwards Air Force Base in California (Patty had been wildly excited to visit the base where the Space Shuttle used to land). Next, they were ushered onto a helicopter and flown to Las Vegas.

They saw the chaos beginning on the Strip below, but no sign of micro-rips or a trans-dimensional portal. Yet.

Hawkins sat in the co-pilot's chair, listening in on the LVPD radio frequency as the city police tried in vain to restore order in the middle of the escalating supernatural event. "Don't get too close to the Altamont." He didn't want a repeat of the copter crash from their first tangle with Voga Ra'El. "We're cleared to land on the helipad at the Encore. It's the closest to the Altamont."

"Aw, man, what happened to the Aladdin hotel? There was this guy with the most gorgeous blue eyes who used to hand out flyers there. And when did they put all those damned skyscrapers up?" Patty was staring out the window at the lights of the strip. It had been years since she and a group of friends from the MTA had hit Las Vegas. It wasn't anything like she remembered. "Remember when they put some imagination into these Vegas resorts? Like the pyramid at the Luxor and the castle at the Excalibur and the Eifel Tower at the Paris? All these new places are just big glass boxes. I can get that back home. Look-is that little group of skyscrapers leaning like that on purpose or did the contractors make a big mistake?"

Abby had spent the cross-country flight helping Ray work on the trap and the duplicate of Voga Ra'El's final device. She wasn't up for small talk. These gadgets had to work properly if they were going to save Holtzmann. "Maybe we can talk about the decline of the Vegas Strip after we find Holtz and stop the Apocalypse?"

"We were talking about architecture before we left New York. It's on my brain now."

Erin was studying the boulevard below, trying to plan a path between the Encore and the Altamont. "How are we going to get through that mess down there?" They wouldn't be able to get there by car with all the accidents blocking the boulevard. The sidewalks were jammed with pedestrians, and the ghosts had turned it all into a slip-and-slide by dousing it all in ectoplasmic goo.

"Anything but another plane ride," Winston complained. His guts still felt like Jell-O from that ride on Hawkins' super-jet.

Ray and Abby inspected their work and exchanged nods. Ray passed the modified trap and the portal device to the woman seated next to him. "You sure you know what you're doing, Janine?"

Janine tucked the smaller device into her coat pocket, but she'd have to carry the trap. She hadn't donned the coveralls or brought another weapon this time. "I'm the only one who has a chance of getting near Jillian. They'll kill you guys before you get within ten feet of the building."

"What makes you sure they won't kill you, too?" Winston asked.

Janine stared.

"Let me guess: A hunch?" Patty said.

The helicopter landed, and they piled out, all gazes turning to the direction of the Altamont Hotel. Ghosts circled the roof and blue light glowed, but the sky above was calm. "Well, the good news is the micro-rips haven't started yet, which means the portal probably hasn't been activated yet," Erin said.

They took the freight elevator down to the main level, drawing a few disapproving stares from the kitchen staff as they passed through on the way to the lobby. The guests were crowded around every available window, watching the madness outside. A few paused to offer disapproving stares at the Ghostbusters, the tattered jumpsuits, and their bulky fear.

Ray and Winston tried to clear a path through the mass of bodies. "Excuse us, please. Stand aside, please. Ladies and gentlemen, this is an emergency situation. Please remain indoors for your safety," Ray kept up a dialogue.

"Let's move it, people!" Abby wasn't concerned about being polite.

"Nice earrings. I got some just like them at Wal-Mart. Where'd you get yours?" Patty tried complimenting a nervous-looking older woman.

The woman gave her and offended huff and walked away.

Patty shrugged. "Guess she don't shop at Wal-Mart."

Finally, they made it out of the building and raced for the pedestrian overpasses on Las Vegas Boulevard for a better vantage point.

From the street level, the scene was more insane than it had appeared from the sky. A few ghosts had donned suits of armor and stolen horses from the Excalibur and were riding down the street, attempting to spear cars and pedestrians with spectral lances. A man ran, screaming, from a wedding chapel, pursued by a, decomposing ghost in a white wedding dress. Ghosts continued to slime the cars, causing more crashes.

Shaking her head, Erin reached for her neutrino wand and fired up her proton pack. "All right, let's try to herd them back towards the Altamont."

They team divided up: Abby, Patty, and Winston on one side of the street, Erin, Ray, Hawkins, and Janine on the other side. They put a stop to as much of the spectral melee as they could, but the entities that they could chipper, stop with the proton grenades and shotgun, or chase back towards the Altamont were drops in an ever-growing supernatural bucket.

Then came a deafening roar, the grind of metal groaning and breaking. It had come from the direction of the giant High Roller Wheel. The enormous Ferris wheel was tearing itself from its base-with the help of several serpent ghosts. Specters crowded into the cars, cheering with excitement as the wheel began to roll down Las Vegas Boulevard. Pedestrians scrambled to get away from the overpasses before they were demolished by the wheel and drivers abandoned their doomed vehicles out of self-preservation.

"I love this town," Winston grinned.

"Don't laugh. They're probably going to bill us for all this damage," Patty groaned, "unless all this crap magically reassembles itself like the Mercado did…if that wheel comes back, see if they'll give us a lift to the Altamont."

At the sound of renewed scream, Abby abandoned her efforts to corral the specters. " _Now_ what?"

A ghost-possessed tiger, escaped from the Mirage, was chasing more hapless folks down the street. The hotel's famous volcano was spewing rivers of slime. The tiger spied the Ghostbusters among the masses and charged at them, snarling.

Erin wasn't about to fire her nuclear weapons at the cat. "Good news, Ray—you're going to get to test out the neutrino net."

"I can't use it on an animal. PETA will sue us!"

From the other side of the street, Abby shouted, "I'm willing to risk it!"

Janine set the trap into the cat's path and stumbled back, standing behind Ray, who prepared to fire his proton pack if the net didn't work. The tiger leaped, and the modified sensors in the device deployed the neutrino net. It worked perfectly-the specter was torn from the cat, entangled in the net, and the tiger hit the cement, unconscious but unharmed save for some singed fur.

"Looks like it's working fine," Erin said. Ray released the specter-they couldn't spare the trap and containing it was a wasted effort amidst the current tidal wave of paranormal activity.

Somehow, they had managed to navigate the chaos until they were only a block away from the towering Altamont. Up close, from street level, they couldn't see the rooftop at all.

Janine's gaze was fixed to the Altamont's roof. "Jillian's up there." She took the trap from Ray's hand.

"This Jedi mind stuff you've got going on is starting to scare me," Patty told her.

Just looking up at the dizzying height of the building nearly gave Abby vertigo. "We should have taken our chances landing on the Altamont's roof. That is a long way up."

Erin asked their architecture expert: "How tall is it?"

Patty answered without hesitation. "Tallest building on the West Coast. Eighty stories."

Winston gaped. "Eighty? Okay, I love Jillian, but if I have to climb eighty flights of stairs, I'm going to have a heart attack. You got an idea how we're going to get up there?"

"We could try that?" Ray pointed to a pirate ship, which the Vogaite ghosts had liberated from the Hotel TI and were now floating down the Strip. They gleefully fired slime from the ship's cannons.

Patty refused, "Uh-uh. I draw the line at the _Jolly Roger_. That's undignified. Unless Colin O'Donoghue is flying the boat. Then I'll think about it."

"Ray, Peter, and I once crossed New York City riding in the Statue of Liberty," Winston said.

"That's worse than riding the ghost boat," she said.

"I say we try the elevators. What's the worst that could happen? Other than ghosts cutting the cable and us plunging eighty stories to our very bloody deaths?" Abby suggested.

"Yeah, other than that?" Patty added.

Erin interrupted, "Okay, okay, we'll figure it out when we get there."

The Vogaites were aware of the Ghostbusters' approach. They began to form a line between the paranormal exterminators and the Altamont, ready to defend their master. Erin glanced to the woman standing beside her. "I think you're up, Janine. We'll distract them as long as we can."

"Be careful," Ray added. There was more he wanted to say. Jillian's advice still echoed in his mind. But this wasn't the time or the place. He settled for giving her hand a squeeze as he returned the trap to her.

With a nod, Janine approached the ghost army, alone.

GBGBGBGBGB

The ghosts did nothing to challenge her. Some growled, a few licks their vaporous lips as if they'd have enjoyed taking a bite out of the human's flesh, but they parted to make way for her just as she'd hoped. She found herself standing alone in the roundabout at the entrance to the deserted Altamont Hotel, but she didn't approach the doors.

Instead, she called to the silence around her: "Where are you? I know you're here."

In answer, Raina Chaix was suddenly behind her, quiet as death. Janine trembled, remembering what happened in her last encounter with the woman. Despite her intuition, Janine still half expected the dark-haired woman to attack. However, Raina held back.

"Mother of the Calmanani-" Janine saw the woman's lips move, but she heard the words inside her head. It was invasive and disgusting, but it had to be endured. "-She made us pledge to spare your life. However, if you interfere, you will die."

Raina extended her hand, and the ghost trap flew from Janine's grip into the woman's outstretched palm. Janine spoke quickly, before the woman got it into her mind to demolish the device. "There's a flaw in the machine Jillian built. If you open the portal, you'll all die."

Cold blue eyes stared into Janine's, as Raina tried to see into her mind and gage the truth of her words. Raina found only sincerity in the woman's heart. She was afraid for her child. She was speaking the truth about the flaw in the portal.

"The Architect deceived us?" Raina asked. "That is not possible."

"You'd know if I was lying," Janine accused her.

Raina nodded. "You deceive me. You intend to return my master to this device?" she asked about the trap.

"Like I said, you'd know if I was lying. I wouldn't bring it to you if I intended to put him in it," Janine snapped. "I just want to see my daughter one more time. Take me to her and I'll tell you how to fix your magic portal. I don't care what you do to me after that."

The ground began to shake. From the rooftop came the rumble of machinery. The pale blue light suddenly flared brilliant white and three beams of light shot into the night sky. Janine and Raina both knew what it meant. Voga Ra'El's trans-dimensional bridge was being activated. In a few minutes, it would find the dimension he wanted…

…or the dead zone that the Architect had programmed it to seek.

"You're running out of time," Janine taunted Chaix.

Raina saw the truthfulness in Janine's heart, but her instincts still cried out that something was amiss. There was no choice to be made-Raina had to warn her master, permit him to sort out whether this subcreature or the Architect herself was deceiving him.

She took Janine by the arms and vaulted skyward, swiftly scaling the side of the building.

GBGBGBGBGB

He had waited so long-an eternity-for this moment.

Voga Ra'El stood at the edge of the roof, staring down upon a world about to cease to exist. In his mind, he had already traveled back, defeated those who sent him into his exile, rebuilt this world through careful manipulation of the timeline into the image he'd perfected in his limitless time to plan. He would thank his enemies before his dispatched them-if not for their treachery in using the Eye of Tezcatlipoca to send him into his exile, he would have remained like them: Tiny, limited in vision to the trivial matters of day-to-day human existence when there was so much more to see and know.

He gazed upon the world that was, but he saw the world that would be, the world he would create. The machines around him fired to life, energy tearing into the sky to rip the barriers between dimensions and prepare the portal that would begin his long-hoped for journey.

It was a strange feeling. The sensations from a flesh and blood body-being cold in the blast of wind at this height, the smells wafting on the breeze, the concrete beneath these hands-it had been an eternity since he'd felt anything. He had watched gravity reshape entire universes, but he'd forgotten the feel of it holding a body to the earth. He stared at the fingers, which would have seemed delicate to him even before he understood the fragility of flesh.

As the machines began to tear tiny chasms into the sky around him, he felt the terror of the tiny creatures of the streets below as they rightly assumed the end of their existence to be at hand. Their passing would not come from fire and death would not be accompanied in pain-he would reshape their timeline and they would simply…vanish. They could not die; they would never exist. That which was never born could never die. It was a merciful death.

Mercy had never been a concern of Voga Ra'El's. He had no need for it. He had always considered the merciful warriors among his people to be the weakest of the warriors among his people. It was might that he had sought from the Eye of Tezcatlipoca.

He smiled at the delicate hands of the body he had temporarily borrowed, and the consciousness that had put the notion of mercy into his thoughts. He had been teaching her, reshaping her…what an intriguing notion that he might be influenced in return.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

The ground began to tremble. The Ghostbusters staggered, grabbing for railings and walls to stay on their feet while the earthquake only fueled the panic of the crowd around them. They gazed upwards to the familiar sight of micro-rips slowly and randomly forming and collapsing in the sky above them.

"Here we go again," Patty said.

There was nothing they could do but wait for Janine's signal…except to pray.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

Janine saw, with a sinking heart, that the first four machines had already been activated by the time Raina Chaix deposited her gently on the rooftop. Raina kept her at a careful distance from Voga Ra'El's bridge devices. The woman might profess to be there to help, but if she intended to interfere, Raina would prevent it.

Janine wasn't interested in the machines. Her attention fell on the familiar black-clad figure who stood at the edge of the rooftop, gazing down at the chaos of the city. It was precisely what she had hoped _not_ to see: Jillian's face, taut and unnaturally pale from the presence of the second soul within her body, and Jillian's blue eyes staring at her with Voga Ra'El's demonic gaze.

Voga Ra'El was far from a fool. He had expected these 'Ghostbusters' to arrive with the very trap this tiny woman with the fiery red hair now carried in her hand. That was the reason he'd possessed the body of his Architect. He did not need a physical form to travel through the portal, nor did he need to control her body to force her to accompany him. She was a hostage, crude though the necessity be. The sub-creatures who had confounded his first attempt to finish his work would not be able to send him back into their trap while he possessed the Architect, not without killing her. They'd already betrayed their weakness by proving they were not willing to let her die.

When she spoke, it was Jillian's voice in Janine's ear with Voga Ra'El's voice in Janine's mind. "I feel…smaller…in this body. I can't explain it."

Jillian/Voga slowly walked towards Janine and Raina. Voga Ra'El ran his fingers of one hand over the back of the other hand, as if he had never felt skin before. A gust of wind from the portal blasted across the roof, and he turned his/her face towards the gust, smiling at the feel of it.

Janine waited. She was aware that the opening and closing of each micro-chasm brought them one step closer to the formation of the portal that would take Jillian away and end the world, but she forced herself to wait.

Jillian/Voga stopped a few feet away, facing Janine. Voga held out her hand- _his_ hand, Janine had to remember this was a creature controlling Jillian, not her daughter-and Raina tossed him the trap. He hardly spared it a glance before tossing it aside.

It rolled a few feet, skidding to a stop near the portal, landing on its side. Janine tried not to react, but she felt a twinge of panic hoping the cylinder would still function lying on its side.

"These minds, flesh and blood, neurons and neurotransmitters, they were never meant to contain all that I've seen." The woman had come this far for her child. Voga Ra'El owed her an explanation, the reason why he had chosen the Architect. Maybe it would comfort the woman to understand the greater purpose he had planned for her off-spring.

 _Or, perhaps it was the daughter who desired that he comfort the mother._ The longer Voga Ra'El spent in possession of this form, the harder it became to understand where his will left off and the Architect's will began.

"I had an eternity with the whole of time as my vista and the universe dancing at my fingertips. There was no corner of any dimension I couldn't visit with only a thought. I could watch, but never partake. I've been longing to cross back, to the domain of flesh and senses…and conversation. I had eternity of endless wonders and no one to share it with me. Now, I have someone to share it with me-but it's fading. I'm starting to forget already. I gave as much of it to her as I could-my calmanani, my Architect." Voga/Jillian watched Janine carefully to see her reaction.

"The numeric language? All those equations? That was a data dump into my daughter?" Janine asked, offended. "You were using her to jot down your memories?"

Voga/Jillian frowned at her, impatient with Janine's misunderstanding. "I wanted to save what I could of all that I've learned during my exile. There were others, those who could hear my words, some who could understand them, some who could create what I showed them. Never one who could do all three. Not without succumbing to madness before they completed their task. She is…special. You know this. It's why I chose her."

"A father cares for his children. I reward my servants for their faithfulness." He gestured at the myriad specters…the souls of those who had pledged service to him during the course of his exile, pledged to serve him unto their deaths and thereafter. "Some asked for money, and I bestowed more than they could spend in a lifetime. Some desired power, and I gave it to them…within reason, of course. Some ask for death-and I grant that wish as well in due time."

Voga glanced at Raina. She looked away.

"Mother of the Calmanani-you must know that I spared you, healed you, as a gift to my child because it was her wish," Voga told Janine.

Hearing this vile entity referring to Jillian as "his child" offended Janine in every possible way. She folded her arms across her chest, letting him see her glare.

Voga/Jillian inclined his head towards the edge of the roof, indicating the street below where the 'Ghostbusters' fought their valiant battle against his army in vain. "I spared all your lives for her. You all forfeit our arrangement with your interference."

His God-complex was nearly as repugnant as his paternal claims on Janine's daughter…but it gave her the opening she'd been waiting for. Janine addressed her words to Jillian, hoping Voga had not suppressed her consciousness completely: "Baby, I'm sorry. I can't let you die. Not again. I know what you did to the device. I know you programmed it to open into a dead dimension."

Voga Ra'El was surprised. His/Jillian's blue eyes widened; Janine felt his rage as he tried to fathom how Jillian could have done so without his being able to pull that information from her mind. His child had tricked him. He would have to deal with that later. He took a step closer to Janine, searching her mind for deception but finding none. "You sacrifice your world by telling me this," Voga said.

Janine took a step closer to him, meeting his stare. "My daughter _is_ my world. If you were a good father, you'd understand that I'd rather have her live…even if it has to be with you. If you alter the timeline, you'll erase this world and her existence. A time paradox. You understand the tenth dimension but you don't see the flaw in your plan?"

Voga smiled at her audacity, presuming to lecture him on temporal physics. "She already said the same, warned me of you 'time paradox'. I understand the tenth dimension, you do not. Your fear of a paradox stems from limited comprehension of the nature of the universe. But, your devotion is commendable. You may die knowing your child is safe in my care; I will be as her own father. When I've made this timeline-perfect-I will still desire someone with a mind capable of sharing it."

The conversation was over; Janine sensed it. It was time to close the trap. She took a deep breath and reached into her pocket for the device that Ray and Abby had built. "This is the correct device. Ray fixed it from the equations you gave Jillian."

Raina had been watching the exchange between Janine and Voga silently. When the human woman offered her the repaired device, Raina gazed at her with astonishment.

Voga Ra'El took the device from her, pleased. He summoned his spectral followers.

GBGBGBGBGB

The micro-rips were forming with greater frequency. Some opened to places that looked like Earth, some to dimensions that were distinctly alien. The Ghostbusters watched with mounting nervousness.

The earthquakes increased in intensity. Mortar began to fall from the tops of buildings. Windows for the storefronts of the high-end casino shops shattered, setting off burglar alarms. The security guards were too preoccupied with the damage done by the ghosts, so looters took advantage of the opportunity.

"I hope they've got some good insurance," Patty mused.

The main cross-rip was growing wider. On the other side, a second planet slowly became visible…a planet that looked identical to earth.

"What is that?" Winston wanted to know.

Erin answered, "Parallel dimension." There was no way to know if it was a viable earth or the dead dimension that Holtzmann had hoped for.

The marauding ghosts saw the chasm. They chattered to each other excitedly, one-by-one abandoning their pestering of the doomed humans to make their way to their master at the Altamont.

This was the opening that the Ghostbusters had hoped for. "Let's go! There's the signal!" Abby shouted.

Unimpeded by Voga's forced, they raced across the empty plaza towards the hotel.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

The minute Voga Ra'El walked past the trap, intent upon fixing his machine before it locked onto the dead dimension, Janine thumbed the tiny remote trigger tucked beneath her sleeve.

The trap sprang open despite being tipped on its side, and the neutrino net snaked outward. The proton streams jolted Jillian/Voga. She screamed as the pain of the beams lanced through her, collapsing to the rooftop…

…ensnared in the beams, Voga Ra'El was pulled out of his host's body.

"Egon's her father, you son of a bitch!" Janine elbowed Raina in the face, breaking free of the woman's grip. She ran for Jillian.

The writhing, vaporous mass that was the real Voga Ra'El screamed into their minds, to his army: " _Treachery_!"

Raina chased Janine...until the moment that the portal finally locked onto the dead dimension. A massive pull of gravity from the other side of the portal began to drag everything on the roof towards the machine. Ghosts that had been happily arching in the sky were immediately sucked across the barrier, being crushed to non-existence as soon as they hit the event horizon, perishing too quickly to utter a scream.

The trap and the ensnared Voga Ra'El clattered towards the doom of the chasm. Raina grabbed one of the antennas to keep from being pulled inside as well. She stretched out her palm and the trap flew into her grasp.

Jillian was jolted awake as Janine collided with her, clinging to her daughter tightly as they were both pulled towards the cross-rip. She tried to angle them towards the massive air conditioning units, sheltering behind the boxes though the pull of the gravity threatened to tear them from their precarious shelter.

Holtzmann was more prepared for the odd feeling of waking up on a strange roof with a gap in her memory, since this was the second time it had happened in as many days. Janine was there, keeping a death grip on her. Holtzmann felt the tug of a gravitational drag, heard the screams of the ghosts overhead as they were dragged away.

Janine wasn't supposed to be there, but Holtzmann was still profoundly grateful to see her alive and whole. "Mom? You're okay?"

Janine smiled at her. "I'm fine. We got your message."

The air conditioning unit groaned against the pull of the portal. There was a fire escape nearby. With tremendous effort, the two women made their way to the ladder, grabbing onto the rungs with all their strength. They were lifted off their feet, stretching like flags fluttering in a breeze, both feeling themselves losing their grip on the ladder.

Holtzmann moved, hand-over-hand, making her way higher so she could see over the side of the building, searching for a way that they could escape before gravity pulled them into the dead dimension.

 _There was only one way…_

She turned to Janine. "You know I'm not crazy, right?"

Janine nodded.

"Good." Holtzmann grabbed her arm and dragged her to the top of the ladder. Janine let go of the ladder and wrapped both arms around her daughter's waist.

Holtzmann took a deep breath, tried one of those prayers that Patty was so adamant about…and allowed herself to fall from the rooftop, dragging Janine with her.

Raina was too far away to stop them if she wanted to. She could not let go of the antenna without being sucked into the dead dimension herself. She felt the Architect's intention as the woman climbed over the side of the roof, felt her calmly fall away…then the presence of Architect and her mother was gone.

Voga Ra'El's vaporous form was held by the neutrino net, but the proton streams were stretching and distorting towards the cross-rip. He fought not to be drawn into the trap. " _Raina_!"

She reached out with her telekinesis, disconnecting the fifth device from the larger machine. The portal generator shut down. Raina sighed in relief, letting go of the antenna.

Voga Ra'El seethed. Many of his followers had been lost in the dead dimension, but they could be replaced. He would repair the device himself-the Architect had made the pieces, it was a simple matter to correct her sabotage. No longer would he trust his work to humans, so capable of deceit and betrayal.

"I require a host," he summoned Raina.

She froze, blood running cold at his words. "You gave me your vow to let me die."

Voga was indifferent to her protests. He felt the approach of the ones called the 'Ghostbusters'…they were already stepping off the elevator and making their way up the stairs to the roof. If they found him in this vulnerable state, they would trap him again. His only option was Raina Chaix, and she was sworn to obey. "I require a host!" he repeated.

He underscored his commands-as he did so often when she hesitated-with a fresh lance of pain like fire burning her body, worse than the fires of perdition that Raina remembered so well. She sagged to her knees, hugging herself tightly against the pain until Voga Ra'El relented.

Tears streaming down her pale cheeks, Raina Chaix nodded. She held out her hand.

Voga Ra'El was satisfied that he'd forced her obedience.

The Ghostbusters burst onto the rooftop, weapons drawn.

"Holtz? Janine?" Erin yelled.

"Holtzy?" Patty echoed.

They found only Raina Chaix, on her knees. They were in time to see wave her hand at the ectoplasmic cloud that was Voga Ra'El, gathering him up. She gazed sidelong at the Ghostbusters as they trained their weapons on her.

"What'd you do with them?" Abby demanded of her. "Where are they?"

"Are they dead?" Erin asked, fearing the answer.

Raina's gaze flicked briefly to the spot where the Architect and her mother had plunged from the rooftop. Abby blanched and ran for the side of the building, Ray right behind her. They stared over the side, praying not to see Holtzmann or Janine dead on the street below.

"They aren't down there," Abby said. She circled back to the hooded woman. "Where the hell are they?"

Raina smiled, envious of the Architect, with so many willing to sacrifice so much for her. She remembered having people who loved her as much. Once. She wanted to be with them again, but knew her destination was hellfire and damnation.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps this time God would be forgiving.

She whispered to the humans encircling her: "You should hang on to something."

They didn't question her, accepting the warning. They ran to grab onto the antennas or duck behind walls as Raina's power swept up the fifth device and rocketed it back into its slot in the portal generator. The machine instantly recalled its previous coordinates as the cross-rip manifested once more.

If he had the ability, Voga Ra'El would have screamed as the trap-and him with it-was drawn into the dead dimension.

The feeling of him dying, of his complete absence from her mind, made Raina Chaix smile again. She lifted her head, looking at the Ghostbusters. "I remember…family."

Then, she allowed herself to be pulled into the cross-rip before they could stop her. Erin still reached for her instinctively, "No-!"

She was gone.

"We have to shut that thing down!" Abby yelled.

Ray trained his neutrino wand on the generator's power source and fired, obliterating it. The generator died and the cross-rip sealed itself.

Patty stared after Raina Chaix. "Why do the super freaks keep offing themselves like that?"

Winston couldn't have cared less about the suicide of the psychotic woman. God knew she left enough death in her wake. His only concern was Janine and Jillian. "Now what do we do?"

"I don't know. If they didn't go through the portal…but where else could they have gone?" Erin, too, went to the side of the rooftop, gazing down as if the streets below would somehow respond.

Abby's phone rang.

She froze, trading glances with Erin. "You don't think-?"

"Answer it!" the group shouted.

"Okay, okay…sheesh…" Abby didn't recognize the number…or the country code for that matter. She answered, "Hello?"

The voice was garbled and distorted, but familiar. "Abby?"

Abby could have cried. "Holtz! Where are you?!"

Everyone gathers around her, jubilant, anxious to try to hear while they traded hugs. Abby put the phone on speaker as Holtzmann replied, "That's a little hard to explain. I think-we're in Papua New Guinea."

"You're where?" Patty asked. "How'd you get to the other side of the planet?"

"Hey, Patty! Yeah, we jumped off the roof into a micro-rip."

"You and Janine both?" Ray wanted to know.

"We landed in the ocean. A pig farmer had to row out to get us…he has a house like a Hobbit. It's pretty awesome."

Holtzmann had actually had fun jumping from a skyscraper through a cross-rip that might have deposited her on another planet instead of the Gulf of Papua. If Abby needed proof that their friend was okay, that was it. Abby couldn't help but laugh. "Thank god you're okay! Holtz, keep your phone on. I'm going to have Hawkins get a lock on your location and send help."

Patty noticed something as she gazed down from the rooftop. Now that the cross-rip had sealed itself, and the paranormal onslaught was over, the crowds had gathered at the base of the Altamont Hotel. They were too far down for Patty to hear, but from the way they were gesticulating and moving, she could almost swear that they were cheering. "You won't believe this," she waved to the others.

They gathered along the ledge, following her gaze. Erin shook her head. "They think all this was a show?"

Patty grinned. "This is Vegas, baby."

GBGBGBGBGB

In the tiny nation of Papua New Guinea, Holtzmann and Janine were currently riding along a dirt road in a rickety pick-up truck…more specifically, they were sharing the back of the truck with the farmer's pigs. Holtzmann was still coming down from the buzz of her most recent near death experience; Janine was trying to keep her feet out of the pigs' poop.

Holtzmann knocked on the window to the truck's cab. "Thanks for loaning me the phone, Bexley! You might have some roaming charges."

The driver simply grinned and waved back at her. He was looking forward when they reached the nearest town to telling his friends how he'd rescued the strange women who had fallen out of a hole in the sky.

Janine had her arm looped tightly through Jillian's, mostly to reassure herself that her daughter was really there. "So, how's falling off an eighty-story building into a trans-dimensional cross-rip into the Gulf of Papua for a second mother-daughter day?"

Holtzmann mulled that before grinning. "Not bad. But, how about next time we try paintball?"

TBC…

 _AN: Thanks for sticking with me this far. I didn't mean for it to be quite this long, but that's just the way I write. Just the epilogue left, coming in a few days…_


	7. Epiloge (Part One)

_Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has been reading and favoriting. That means a lot. And sorry it's been a little while since the last update. I hope to have the story wrapped up this week. As with 'One Day at Christmas', this is going to be a two-part epilogue. This part is the original epilogue. The next part is an additional epilogue that I hadn't originally planned but thought some of you might like._

 _I hope you've been enjoying it. I still don't own "Ghostbusters" (see chapter 1 for disclaimers)._

 **Epilogue – Part One**

 _Two Days Later…_

The Ghostbusters had gathered at Abby's apartment…with sledge hammers and power tools. Gaining access to the building had been a simple matter of dressing Kevin as the building's maintenance man and having him spritz the two Homeland Security agents with an aerosol that Holtzmann promised would do nothing more than make the agents sleep for a few hours while the Ghostbusters worked.

Abby had ruefully joked that she and Holtzmann hadn't even been roommates for a week before the engineer demolished the place (they'd both be living in the firehouse for the time being, since they were both now officially-if temporarily-homeless).

Erin had argued for the entire ride to Abby's building, suggesting alternatives for their plan, knowing all the while that they had no other option. Now that they were standing in Abby's living room, prepared to put their plan into action, she stared mournfully at the walls and the equations that adorned them.

"You really don't remember doing any of this?" Patty asked Holtzmann.

"Not one bit of it." Holtzmann had two giant gaps in her memory from the time spent under Voga Ra'El's control. She didn't remember anything between negotiating with Voga Ra'El at the warehouse and when she had hit that neutrino net back on the Altamont's rooftop.

The engineer had only seen pictures of her work on the apartment. It was more impressive in person-like the difference between seeing pictures of the Mona Lisa versus seeing the real painting. The equations and the numeric dialect were such things of beauty that Holtzmann briefly wondered if there were some way to preserve the work.

"Maybe if you tried Ray's machine again-?" Erin asked.

Abby elbowed her.

"Ow!" Erin swatted at Abby in retaliation. Admittedly, it was a tasteless suggestion, but Erin would grasp at any straw that would preserve the wealth of information they were about to destroy. Holtzmann's memory would soon be the only place where these equations would exist, and she wouldn't be able to recall them. "Sorry, it's just that if you could remember the numeric language…this is the secret to interdimensional travel. We could win the Nobel Prize in Physics…"

Abby cut her off. "We could unleash another Apocalypse, accidentally undo important historical events...come on, Erin, you know all this is too dangerous."

When the danger presented by Voga Ra'El had passed, while they were waiting for Holtzmann and Janine to fly back from New Guinea, the Ghostbusters-past and present-had talked about the dimensional gate, the equations, and the numeric dialect. The implications for science were unlimited. It meant mankind would gain the ability to travel between dimensions and through time.

Their inevitable conclusion was that mankind wasn't ready. The temptation to alter history would tempt too many people, just as it had enticed Voga Ra'El. There was no way to keep the knowledge safe and secret.

There was only one thing they could do. They had also agreed that painting over the numbers wasn't good enough. They needed to be certain that nobody could reproduce that interdimensional gate.

"It's the culmination of my life's work," Erin couldn't help but whine just a little, just one last time.

Holtzmann patted her shoulder. "Erin, Erin…you have to let it go."

Abby tried consoling her friend. "And it's not the _culmination_ of anything. We're just getting started."

Erin forced a smile. They were right, of course. She'd closed the door to her Nobel Prize ambitions, traded them for saving the world from the very entities she'd tried so long to prove existed. That was her life's work now…and that wasn't such a bad thing, not at all. "So, we're really going to do this?"

Holtzmann was hefting a sledge hammer and grinning like it was Christmas morning.

"Abby, it's your wall. You should get the first blow," Patty said.

Abby stepped forward, raising her own hammer. "So much for my damage deposit. Okay, here we go-one more act of treason." Taking a deep breath, she swung the hammer and began smashing the drywall.

An hour later, Patty's muscles were screaming in protest. She glanced around at the apartment, which was now coated in dust and mortar. "Tell me again why we couldn't stop with painting over it?"

Holtzmann wiped the dust from her safety glasses and surveyed their handiwork with approval. "Not as satisfying."

Abby reminded Patty. "We can't take any chances on someone rebuilding that dimensional gate."

"I'm just going to point out that those Homeland Security folks probably already scanned all this into their computers," Patty retorted.

She was correct, there were still other copies of the equations floating around. "Ray's getting rid of the copies back at the warehouse. Peter said he'd handle the copies at Homeland Security."

"Which leaves one last copy…" Holtzmann plucked the cell phone out of Erin's pocket so quickly and smoothly that her friend didn't realize what was happening until Holtzmann was on the other side of the room with the device. It still had the photos stored that Erin had texted to her days earlier.

Erin tried in vain to grab for the phone (she should have known better than to hope Holtzmann had forgotten about them). "Oh, come on! I'm not going to share them! Holtz!"

Patty caught Erin's arm, holding her back while Holtzmann dropped the phone onto the floor and smashed it with her sledgehammer.

Holtzmann handed the broken pieces back to Erin, cringing: "Sorry."

Erin sulked. "I know-you can't buy me another one."

They were interrupted when Agent Hawkins walked into the apartment, barking: "Holtzmann, what did you do to Agents Phillips and Otani-oh shit." He cursed when he saw what they were doing.

"Patty, you didn't lock the door?" Abby groaned.

"It's not my apartment, don't jump down my throat." Abby turned to Hawkins. "How'd you find us?"

" Mr. Beckman. "

Holtzmann waved off Hawkins' concern. "They'll be fine-but everything they eat and drink for the next week will taste like purple. Side effect."

"Of what? What did Kevin spray them with?" Patty still wanted to know.

"Nothing permanent. It's not important."

What was done was done. Hawkins decided to let Director Fosse worry about reprimanded the women over the equations. He'd come on other business. He pulled a manila envelope from his coat and set it on the kitchen table.

"This is for all of you, courtesy of Deputy Director Venkman…who, incidentally, miraculously woke up two days ago with the ability to walk again." He directed the last comment at Holtzmann, raising an eyebrow at her. "You and Voga Ra'El wouldn't have paid him a visit before you went to Vegas?"

Abby was speechless. "What?"

"He can walk?" Erin was stunned-and then elated, the burden of guilt for his accident suddenly lifting from her shoulders like a weight.

Hawkins added, "According to our doctors, he has no evidence of the spinal cord damage or the other injuries from his fall."

Abby also looked at Holtzmann in confusion. "I thought you just asked Voga Ra'El to heal Janine?"

Holtzmann wondered why they were looking at her as if their staring was going to bring back her memory. "I did-and for him to leave my family alone and…uh-oh."

"Okay, I don't like it when you say 'uh-oh;. 'Uh-oh' from you is like Oppenheimer saying 'oops' after they created the atomic bomb," Patty scolded her.

Holtzmann was trying hard to recall her negotiation with the specter. She'd been so preoccupied with saving her mother's life at the time that she hadn't paid close attention to her exact words. "I may have been thinking 'safe and whole'…or something along those lines."

"So, since Peter's one of your godfathers, Voga Ra'El healed him, too?" Abby guessed. "You know, for a deviant megalomaniac bent on unleashing the Apocalypse, he was certainly a stickler for keeping his promises."

Erin was thrilled for Venkman, but also dying of curiosity about the package that Hawkins had put on the table. She had a feeling she knew the answer before she asked: "Yeah…okay, great, but what's in the envelope?"

Hawkins explained, "Paperwork officially making the four of you government contractors to the Department of Homeland Security, Paranormal Defense Division. It's retroactive to your first case consulting with us, the Rowan North affair. If you sign it, you officially will be funded by the Department of Homeland Security instead of the city of New York…and you will have clearance for all the classified information relating to the work of your predecessors in the Ghostbusters."

It wasn't the solution Holtzmann had hoped for, there were so many strings that came along with the new assignment, but only one thing mattered to her. "No treason charges for my mom-?"

Patty added, "Or our uncles?"

Hawkins nodded. "If you sign the agreement," he repeated.

Abby had to know one more thing before she'd consider the proposal. "What about that DX-4 order on Holtzmann? You _are_ revoking that, right?"

"I believe that was one of Director Venkman's stipulations. You can also request to have Agent Rorke replaced with a new handler, if that's what you want."

Holtzmann shook her head. "Oh no…I want Rorke to stay. There are just so many opportunities for blackmailing him…"

Erin was reading through their new contract. She held out the papers to the engineer, pointing to one specific section. "Holtz, this says any devices you create while under contract with Homeland Security become government property. Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, it says they'll compensate you but-oh, hell, that's what they'll pay for our inventions? Your inventions. I meant yours."

Abby whistled. "That is a lot of zeros…"

Holtzmann frowned at the idea of selling her creations, her babies, to the government. She didn't care about money. She'd always got along fine without it. "It's either join the DHS or-Canada?"

Erin shrugged. "I always liked Vancouver. It's pretty. They have skiing and a beach. They have Science World and that little cannon that they shoot off at nine o'clock every night."

"I do enjoy cannon fire," Holtzmann cracked.

"Well, we can officially cross Las Vegas off our list of potential new homes. That much I know," Abby said. It turned out that the Las Vegas Strip had not magically repaired itself after Voga Ra'El's death. Three insurance companies were declaring bankruptcy for having to cover the damages, but the city itself was having a tourism boom thanks to the people who were flocking there in droves to see the wreckage (for instance, the famous High Roller wheel was now permanently embedded in front of the pyramid at the Luxor Hotel).

Patty intended to be supportive, no matter what. You did for family, it was that simple, and this contract was going to keep her and Holtzmann's mutual family from being punished for saving the world (and more importantly, for saving Holtzmann). "It's your call, baby girl. I mean, you're the one that Rorke shot and those are your inventions. We'll do whatever you want to do."

Erin and Abby nodded in agreement.

Holtzmann considered it, but only for a moment, before she found a pen and signed her name to the papers. "It's my family, right?"

Ray and Janine walk into the apartment just in time to overhear the remark. "You'd better believe it. Abby, I love the renovations," Ray said.

Party shook her head. "Okay, we need to explain to Kevin that the whole secret mission idea doesn't work if he tells everybody where we are."

Janine greeted her daughter with a hug, wincing at the burns on Jillian's neck from the neutrino net. It looked a little more painful than a 'sunburn', but at least her daughter was alive and no longer being chased by a Toltec demon and his cultists. "What happened to the agents outside?" she asked. Holtz tried looking innocent. Janine rolled her eyes. "Never mind, I don't want to know. So, what's all this? Sweetie, you can't give up your inventions…the proton pack, the grenades…"

Holtzmann had read that section carefully. "Technically, those aren't included in this contract. This contract is for devices I create after the Rowan North incident. I built our gear before Rowan's little party. The DHS gets the rights to the containment unit and the neutrino net…and a bear trap that sends ghosts to Michigan. The rest is mine."

"They get the dimensional gate," Abby said.

Hawkins snorted. "You mean that twisted heap of metal that-according to you all-self-destructed after Voga Ra'El's death and didn't look at all like it was shot multiple times with a particle accelerator?"

They all avoided the agent's gaze. There hadn't been any way they could physically take the pieces of the device with them, so they'd done the best they could on short notice to render it inoperable.

Ray could pull off the fake look of innocence far better than his goddaughter. "There was a bee. We were shooting at it. Allergic."

Patty nodded. "A big bee."

Ray was going to point out that Jillian still had the knowledge of how to rebuild the gate within her subconscious, they could use the memory device to retrieve it. There was no point giving the DHS any ideas.

Hawkins wondered what they hell he'd signed up for (as one of their handlers) by bringing these women into the company. "Whatever. Are the rest of you signing?"

Holtzmann passed the papers back to the rest of the team. "What do you say? It has to be unanimous."

One by one, they all signed. Hawkins collected the contract and tucked it back into the envelope. "Okay, then. Welcome to the Department of Homeland Security, ladies. I'll just get this on file…and pretend I didn't see anything that's going on here. If you'll excuse me?" He got out the door as quickly as he could, before they did something else he was going to have to lie to the Director about later.

Janine nudged her daughter. "He really is a very nice man," she suggested quietly.

Holtzmann blushed bright red. "Mom…" Abby had warned her that mothers tried to fix up their daughters. It was in those _Cathy_ cartoons Abby had given her. They were definitely going to have to sit and talk sometime about conversational boundaries (though Abby had also warned her that mothers had no conversational boundaries where their children were concerned).

"I'm just saying…"

"I'm really not his type, mom. _Really_ not," Holtzmann said.

Janine finally caught the hint. "Oh. I see…" She was undaunted. "Well, in that case-I think I could fix him up with my dentist. He owns a summer house in Cape Cod…"

" _Mom_!"

Ray took pity on his goddaughter and interrupted. "Well, now that you're official, I have something for you all." He went out to his car and returned with a box that was labeled " _Classified_ " in big red letters and taped shut. He set it on the table.

When it dawned on Erin that she had clearance to open the box, she eagerly ripped at the tape. "What is it?

When she pulled off the lid, they saw the box was with micro cd-r's and paper files, all marked with the Ghostbusters' logo.

Ray answered proudly. "That is forty years of personal research on the paranormal collected by me, Peter, and Egon-and thirty-three years of Ghostbusters' case files."

The four women were stunned. They stared at the discs and files like they'd just found the Holy Grail.

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Ray grinned at them.

Erin breathed, reeling at the possibilities of what they'd find in the stack of information. "Oh my…"

Abby was wide-eyed as she started flipping through some of the papers. "The referential material alone will take weeks to read…look! That name Patty heard on the EVP? Zuul? There's a whole file on Zuul in here!"

Patty snatched the file from her hand and started reading.

Holtzmann had paused over a file that contain what looked like an old, old doctoral dissertation: " _Particle Physics and Its Implications for Confirmation of Spectral Existence_ ". The professor had succinctly written "Bullshit" across the title page.

The author's name was Egon Spengler. The others were so wrapped up in exploring the contents of the box, they didn't notice the paper or see Holtzmann wipe impatiently at her eyes before tucking the dissertation into her silver duffel beneath the table.

"These will take months to analyze. We need to sort them by subject matter, then we can divide them: Physics for me, Abby can handle the astrophysics, Holtz gets the technical specs on all their gear. Patty, there's a whole historical database on worldwide paranormal activity for you. We need to start right away," Erin was saying.

"You can start in the morning. If you don't mind, I'd like to steal my goddaughter for tonight." Ray said. He offered a towel to dust-coated Jillian. "I thought we could do a little dumpster diving-and then your mother and I have something we want to talk to you about if you'd join us for dinner?"

Holtzmann glanced from him to Janine, whose ears were bright red. Ray was poker-faced, but Jillian could guess whatever he wanted to talk about had something to do with wanting her permission to date her mother. This wasn't going to be weird at all.

"Can I pick the restaurant this time?" she asked.

Ray nodded. "Sure-" He noticed that Erin, Abby, and Patty were waving their hands and shaking their heads 'no' as subtly as they could manage. "-ly we can figure out a place all three of us will like. Someplace with a high-quality fire suppression system in place."

He ushered Janine and Holtzmann out of the apartment, leaving the rest of the Ghostbusters with the stack of files in the wrecked apartment.

Erin drummed her fingers on the table. "He's right. We can wait and look at these files in the morning."

Patty disagreed, cracking open another sealed file. "Screw that."

It was Erin and Abby's sentiments exactly. "I'll get my laptop," Abby said.

GBGBGBGBGBGB

 _AN: The conclusion will be coming in the next couple of days._


	8. Epilogue (Extended Cut)

_Okay, folks, so here is the alternate/extended ending. I hadn't originally planned for the story to end this way. It's kind of the same deal as "One Day at Christmas", you can pick for yourself whether you want to end the story this way or leave it off at the last chapter. (Incidentally, this chapter is titled because it's meant to take place after ODaC). As usual, I don't own "Ghostbusters". Warning again for some strong language in this chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and favorited, it means a lot._

 **Epilogue #2**

One Day _After_ Christmas

Peter Venkman was having one of his best days in years. Ray had called late last night to give him the word that the Ghostbusters had rescued Jillian and Voga Ra'El's cult had been dispatched to a dead dimension. He'd crept into the Department of Homeland Security for a little early-morning sabotage (made that much easier because of his recent promotion), and-best of all-he'd walked into the building, enjoying the shock, confusion, and then the joyful congratulations of his co-workers.

If any of them suspected that his "miraculous" recovery had anything to do with recent paranormal events in New York and Las Vegas, they damned sure weren't going to question the Deputy Director about it.

 _Peter had called Dana to let her know that he'd be late. She'd scolded him again, already angry with him for demanding to be released from the hospital far too early and his insistence on trying to work at all when she didn't think he was physically ready for it (she was correct, of course, but, naturally, he wasn't going to admit it)._

 _He intended to stay and make sure every resource of the department was used to track down his goddaughter, though realistically, he'd known if anyone was going to have the knowledge and the ability to find Jillian, it was the Ghostbusters._

 _And sure enough, Ray had soon texted him that she'd been spotted in Las Vegas and asked Peter to arrange for the fastest plane at his disposal to get the Ghostbusters there in time to stop whatever Voga Ra'El had in mind. It irked Peter to have to stay behind-again-while his family was in danger. Staring at his laptop and waiting for the phone to ring did nothing to make him feel like he was helping. He was beyond exhausted and drifted to sleep in his overstuffed desk chair._

 _He'd been awakened abruptly by the feeling that someone—something-was in the office with him._

 _Peter had opened his eyes and Jillian was standing right in front of him._

 _Thirty years of dealing with ghosts and ghouls and other paranormal creatures had given Peter enough experience to know a possessed person when he saw one. The fact that a deep, demonic, second voice overlapped with hers when Jillian spoke only confirmed it._

" _Gah! Jillian? Or is it Voga Ra'El?" He didn't ask how she could be in New York City when she had been spotted in Las Vegas only a half hour earlier. Again, years of dealing with the supernatural filled in the blanks for him: Specters and demigods pretty much popped up wherever they damned pleased, so crossing the country wouldn't take much more than a wink of Voga Ra'El's eye (or Jillian's eye in this case)._

 _Peter had sat there trying to come up with a plan to help...or to escape if Voga Ra'El decided to attack him. He reckoned he'd be toast before he could slide from his desk chair to his wheelchair._

 _Jillian/Voga Ra'El was staring at him in a manner that made him feel like a butterfly about to be pinned to a display board. "Peter Venkman. You've destroyed many of my kind."_

 _He wondered if it was weird that he was proud of having a reputation on the paranormal grapevine. "It's a living. Pardon the expression. If you hop out of my goddaughter, maybe I won't turn you into a puddle of slime."_

 _Voga Ra'El was unimpressed with the threat, clearly a bluff since the only weapon within Peter's reach at the moment was his stapler. Even if he'd had a proton accelerator within his grasp, it was an empty threat. Peter wouldn't lift a finger against the Toltec specter while it was residing in his goddaughter. Voga/Jillian circled around the desk, approaching him slowly. Peter made himself fold his hands in his lap in what he hoped looked casual and calm to the ghost._

" _I could snap your neck with a thought-but I gave this one my word."_

 _Peter raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What word would that be-?"_

 _Voga/Jillian reached for him with inhuman speed and lifted him out of the chair by his throat. Peter was certain he'd lost his air of nonchalance, in fact he would have liked to scream if she weren't squeezing his windpipe closed…_

… _but the part of his mind not gripped with panic that he might be strangled by this ghost noticed something._

 _Feeling._

 _Feeling in his legs._

 _The headache that persisted despite the fact that his skull fracture had healed also abated._

 _Voga/Jillian was setting him gently on feet that he could finally feel. He let out a cry, expecting to fall the moment she released her hold on his throat. He wobbled, clung to the desk for support, but his legs grew stronger with each passing second until he steadied himself._

 _The specter backed away, satisfied with its work. "A simple trade-she would not come into my family until her former family was made whole and safe," it explained._

Aw, crap, Jillian… _Peter cursed inwardly. Ray had already explained to Peter about Janine's injury and Jillian's bargain for Voga Ra'El to save her mother. It had not occurred to him that she might throw healing Peter into the deal. She barely knew him. Was it because he was family or repayment for his saving her from being a permanent lab rat for the D.H.S.? Either way, Peter wasn't happy._

" _It makes no difference to me. You'll be dead soon enough. You may have a few last hours if it pleases her," Voga/Jillain added._

" _What does that mean-?" The question was a knee-jerk reaction. He knew the answer: Voga Ra'El intended to unleash the Apocalypse. He didn't care about healing Peter or Janine because they would eventually die in the cataclysm anyway._

 _Peter tried to move to grab Jillian (a ridiculous notion, since Voga Ra'El could clearly overpower him), but she'd disappeared as quickly as she'd materialized._

 _The clock on the wall read seven forty-five E.S.T._

Now that Jillian was safe, Peter was rather enjoying literally being back on his feet. For one thing, it made it easier to circle his cringing agents like a lion about to pounce, which added to the fun of the on-going interrogation.

"Let me get this straight: You're telling me that all the data is gone? Paradigm-altering astrophysics has been….deleted?"

He'd been expecting this visit from Agent Rorke and Dr. Valeria Marquez all morning. Rorke had been assigned to guard the artifacts from the Hidalgo; Dr. Marquez was responsible for cataloging and analyzing all the equations that Voga Ra'El had left in Abby Yates' apartment. Rorke had failed miserably to prevent Raina Chaix from reclaiming the Totlec artifacts. Marquez had arrived at the laboratory that morning to a crashed computer and missing files.

The last time he'd enjoyed watching a government employee squirm this much was the day Walter Peck had been booted from the Mayor's office.

Poor Dr. Marquez was so distressed that Peter pitied her. "I can't explain it, Director Venkman. Every file on the hard drive is corrupted."

Peter suspected the industrial magnet that he'd used on the machine before her arrival that morning probably had something to do with the destruction of her hard drive, but, obviously, he couldn't tell her that. "And the automatic back-up?" he asked.

Marquez stared at the ground, too humiliated to look at her boss. "Failed, apparently."

Peter hid a smirk. "Hard copies?"

Rorke supplied the answer to that question. "Accidentally shredded."

"Oops." He raised an eyebrow. Peter might have enough chivalry to regret deceiving Marquez, but torturing Rorke was going to be the director's new favorite past time. After all, the man had still shot Jillian on that roof-top. Peter had used the shredder in Rorke's office to destroy the hard copies of the equations, and he knew damned well they wouldn't find so much as one of Peter's fingerprints in the room or find any security camera logs indicating he'd ever been in the room. Peter knew how to cover his tracks. "Weren't you in charge of security, Agent Rorke?"

Rorke didn't answer.

"Well, kids, all I can say is that's incompetence on an epic scale. A trifecta of fuck-ups, wouldn't you agree?" Peter asked

They were afraid to answer…luckily, they were saved when the intercom on Peter's desk beeped. "What is it, Edgar?" Peter shouted to the receptionist on the other side of his door.

Edgar shouted back (gritting his teeth at his boss' antipathy for the intercom). "Sir—you have a Skype call from Agent Barrett. She said you'd know what it's about. It's on your computer now."

Peter's caustic humor vanished. He turned his back on the two agents with a curt order: "Get out."

Marquez blinked. She'd been expecting to hear him fire her. "Sir?"

He was already in his desk chair, concentrating on his computer. "Amscray. Leave. Buh-bye. Back to work. Try not to delete anything else."

Rorke and Marquez were perplexed, but recognized a reprieve when they saw one. They hot-footed it out the door before their boss changed his mind. Peter had already forgotten about them before he keyed up the Skype call. "Barrett?"

Agent Barrett was not technically under Peter's authority, her specialty skewing more to operating drones and satellites rather than the paranormal. Few agents were better at tracking fugitives by whatever means necessary. She was also a closet UFO buff, Comic Con cos-play champ, confirmed believer in all things paranormal, and secret Ghostbuster groupie since Venkman, Stantz, and Winston had rescued her eighth-grade class from a Class 4 semi-anchored apparition almost twenty years ago. If she hadn't loved computers more than ghosts, he would have transferred the agent to his department his first day at the D.H.S.

She'd put herself at Venkman's disposal for any favor he needed, and therefore distinguished herself as one of a very few agents in whom he had complete confidence. Barrett had been assigned a single task, but one of supreme importance, by Venkman in the last two days…a task that should have been completed by now.

"Director, sir," Barrett greeted him. "I have some information on that A.P.B. you put out two days ago."

Peter didn't have the heart to be sarcastic with her, so he settled for slight teasing: "Kimberly, in case you hadn't heard, Dr. Holtzmann has been located."

She made a face as though Peter had uttered the stupidest words she'd ever heard. "I know, sir, but you need to see something: Security at the Altamont Hotel in Las Vegas reported Dr. Holtzmann on site at five twenty-three p.m., Pacific Standard Time, on Wednesday night, correct?"

Barrett called up the security camera images to display them on Peter's screen. His jaw twitched at the sight of Jillian surrounded by the Toltec cultists. He wished he'd been there to see the little surprise she'd unleashed on the ghouls. "So?" he asked.

"Security camera footage at a bank ATM in Albany, New York, caught an image of Dr. Holtzmann there Wednesday night at seven fifty-seven p.m., Eastern Standard Time, which is four fifty-seven p.m. Las Vegas time," Barrett informed him.

"You said Albany?" There was only one thing he knew of that connected Jillian to Albany. Peter could literally feel a chill run down his spine.

She nodded. "I did. Sir, the footage had to have been altered. It's physically impossible for Dr. Holtzmann to cross the country in less than thirty minutes-"

It had been seven fifty-one when Voga/Jillian paid Peter a visit. He recalled this because every electronic device in his office had been frozen at that time after they'd departed.

Peter chided her. "Kim-have I taught you nothing? She was possessed at the time, so let's keep a flexible definition of 'impossible'. Never mind about that. I'm sending you a photo. Put out an A.P.B. on this person." He fussed with his computer until he remembered how to properly send a file from his device to her cell phone. He could operate a nuclear accelerator, sure, but all this social media garbage was a whole other level of 'pain in the ass'…

Barrett's phone beeped. Her eyes widened when she saw the picture. "Um, Director Venkman, with all due respect, are you screwing with me? This is a joke, right?"

He would have said the same thing if their places were reversed. "That's a fair question. Just do it. And, Kim, please…keep it quiet."

She shook her head. If the boss wanted to waste her time on pointless searches, well, this was a government operation. If she piddled away enough time and resources on a dead-end task, she might just end up with a promotion. "Yes, sir."

Peter offered her a grateful smile, which fell from his face the instant she ended the call. He couldn't decide whether to hope his instincts were right or pray to God he was wrong.

 _Two Months Later…outside Albany, New York_

The homeless encampment was normally visible only to the indifferent passengers of the commuter trains that rolled through the area. They had deliberately found a spot along the Hudson River close enough to town that they could visit the food banks and shelters when the weather was too harsh but far enough from the 'respectable' areas that the police didn't bother to run them off.

He'd been in the camp as long as he could remember-which wasn't all that impressive when his memory went back only about two months. He'd been found wandering in the woods by a kind-hearted young woman, who'd dropped him off at the local hospital. After farting around with doctors who could do absolutely nothing to restore his lost memory or help identify him, he'd given up and checked himself out of the hospital.

It had seemed like a good plan, except that he'd belatedly figured out he had no place to go except the street, the shelters, and eventually this camp.

He wondered if anyone out there missed him, if he had a worried family searching for him (or maybe he'd been such a complete bastard that they'd dumped him out on the street for dead and he'd been so traumatized by the betrayal that he'd developed hysterical amnesia…except that he didn't feel particularly hysterical and his behavior since being found so far hadn't caused his few acquaintances to call him any derogatory name like 'bastard').

The police had taken his fingerprints and picture and promised to try to find his identity when he'd arrived at the hospital. That had proved fruitless, he'd called them thirty times only to be told each time that they had nothing yet but were working on it. He'd snatched a cell phone from his doctor's pockets and familiarized himself with the device in order to search on his own (at least until the doctor figured out what happened and reclaimed his property, swearing to add the data minutes to his patient's bill—a ridiculous threat considering he knew his patient had no money to pay his bill in the first place).

He was sick of wandering into town every morning to sit on the streets and beg people for spare change, of fighting for a bunk at the overcrowded homeless shelters and generally not getting one, and trudging back to this dirty, smelly mattress that he called home day after day after day. He'd decided that, as soon as winter was over and he dared move away from the warmth of the fires that burned in rusted out barrels around the camp, he would try searching on his own (assuming the cold or hunger didn't take him before springtime).

The black SUV that rolled into the encampment that afternoon caused a mild stir among the residents. It was quite obviously a government vehicle. The government tended to show up only when they wanted the homeless to relocate themselves, so their first reaction to the intruders was to make themselves smaller on their mattresses or inside their cocoons of blankets and tarps. A few hurled insults at the gray-haired man in the fedora and the houndstooth overcoat when he climbed out of the passenger seat of the vehicle.

He watched as the fancy government man ordered his driver to wait in the car. Government Man unloaded two large boxes labeled "military rations" from the back of the vehicle and deposited them at the center of the camp. He rolled his eyes at the man's blatant bribe. After he backed away, slowly, hesitantly, people made their way to the boxes to snatch up the foil packets of food. _Probably setting everyone up-make nice with the vagrants before kicking them off the land._

Leaving the men and women to their meals, Government Man began searching the faces of the people gathered beneath the bridge and along the riverbank, pausing to hand money from a small wad of bills to anyone who asked. He didn't move from his mattress, merely kept his distrustful gaze on the man as he slowly made his way closer.

When Government Man spotted him there, burrowed beneath the threadbare thrift-store coat and filthy blanket, he froze in his tracks, suddenly turning ashen-faced. "I will be damned."

He took a step closer before the vagrant growled a warning in a gravelly, barely-used voice: "I don't care if you got a court order, we aren't leaving, buddy. Fuck off."

The last reaction he'd expected was for Government Man to grin and step closer. "I probably shouldn't have expected a hug. I'm sorry." He moved to kneel beside the mattress-not so near that the homeless man on the mattress perceived him as a threat and lash out, but close enough to look him in the eye. "I'm guessing you don't remember me, but my name is Peter."

The homeless man blinked. Beneath the blankets, his fingers curled around the pipe he kept for self-defense. _No, he didn't remember Peter. He didn't even remember himself_. "Nice to meet you, Peter. Fuck off."

Peter the Government Man chuckled, a bitter sound. He wondered what was so damn funny. He wouldn't laugh when the pipe connected with his skull if he didn't take the hint and move on. "I'll bet you don't even remember your own name. Probably you don't remember anything beyond…oh, two months ago?"

The homeless man stiffened a bit. Peter could see that the words hit home, so he pressed on: "Your first memory is probably a very pretty young woman with a funny voice. Like two people talking at once? And I'll bet she found you somewhere near the cemetery, right?"

Now the homeless man sat up. Peter the Government Man was either psychic (and he couldn't be much of a psychic if he didn't know about the pipe that might bash in his skull if he displeased the vagrant) or he'd done his homework. Someone had come specifically looking for _him_.

Did Peter the Government Man know him? His name?

He didn't dare to hope. Still, he was intrigued enough to play along a bit longer. "She left me at the hospital." _She told him that she'd found him and that the hospital would help him. He'd be safe. She had held his face in her hands. He had wondered about that, whether they were friends, who she was, how she'd found him, but she'd never come back._ "Who was she?"

Peter rocked back on his heels, then cringed when his back protested the crouching and painfully stood up. "After the nice lady left you, the hospital kept you a couple of days and then kicked you out. You were sent to the mental hospital to be treated for amnesia. They probably told you it was irreversible before they kicked you out, too. You went to the police, but they couldn't find your fingerprints anywhere in the national database? No pictures of you on the internet. No missing persons reports at the police station. No posters of you at the post office. Like you'd never existed…"

The homeless man stood up, pulling the blankets around his shoulders. He stared into Peter's eyes, as if the orbs would tell him what was going on in the Government Man's mind, his agenda…or if he could pull answers directly from the man's brain.

"You were erased, just like me. No fingerprints or photos left on record. No birth certificate, no home address," Peter added. "The government can hide anyone…or make them disappear."

"Who are you, Peter?"

Peter was the very picture of sincerity now. "I've been looking for you for the last two months-the hospitals kicked you out before I got there. I'm sorry I'm late, buddy."

The vagrant man still dared not hope, but he asked anyway: "You know me? You know who am I?"

"That's a really long story. You were-away-for a very long time. The nice lady who found you...she didn't come back for you because she doesn't remember what she did." Peter's gaze was sorrowful. "There's going to be a lot of people who will be very surprised to see you. Let's take this really slow because, I'm not going to lie to you, it's going to get a little weird."

He'd been living on the streets with no memory. Teenagers had tried to beat him up for fun. People had tried to rob him of his few possessions while he slept. He'd had more days than he could count going without food. 'Weird' didn't scare him. "You didn't answer my question, Peter."

"No, I didn't." The Government Man took a deep breath and then offered his hand, which the vagrant hesitantly shook. "My name is Peter Venkman. And your name is Egon Spengler."

The End

 _I know, I know…turns out I just didn't have the heart to leave ol' Egon killed off. As I said, pick whichever ending you like._


End file.
